


My Daughter's Eccentricity Rivals No One

by cherishfools



Category: Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Haruno Sakura is So Done, I'll Add Tags As I Go On, Negligence, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Protective Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Protective Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, SAkura has issues like all mc's should, SAkura is smort, Sakura and Izuku are friends, Sakura gets reborn, Sakura would kill for Shouta, Sakura's Shouta's daugter, Swearing, endearing-ish?, eventual relationships ion?, no beta we die like sir nighteye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishfools/pseuds/cherishfools
Summary: Sakura dies in her world. A horrible death, really, then wakes up in another world with all her previous memories intact. Her mother in this world is the most irresponsibility fuck she's ever had the grace of seeing and doesn't expect much when she's shipped off to her supposed 'father'. But her hobo father is nothing like her mother, in fact, he's kind of nice...OrSakura’s reborn as Shouta’s daughter and wreaks havoc in everyone's life. In a good way, of course.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Haruno Sakura
Comments: 87
Kudos: 279





	1. Baby at the doorstep

**Author's Note:**

> Helo!  
> I’ve been reading lots of bnha fics lately and have been tempted to write one of my own. If you’ve read the summary, then you know it’s a crossover. And canon Sakura isn't necessarily my favorite Naruto character, but I personally love bamf Sakura fanfics, so I thought, why not just combine everything?  
> I've read enough reincarnation and isekai mangas’ to be inspired by this idea, so I’m hoping that this will be an enjoyable fic to all!  
> Also, DON’T copy my works to other sights. Please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizawa has a hard time accepting his kid and his pettiness is off the charts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BNHA AND NARUTO DON’T BELONG TO ME! (Obviously)

  
  


Aizawa Shouta liked to think he didn't have many regrets. And if he could physically count all the things he’d done that he’d ended up regretting, then it was extra assurance to his first statement. 

And getting wasted on his dead friend's grief and losing his virginity in the process had definitely slithered up to the first rank. 

But that was twelve months ago. And it was _fine_ now. Those moments had long passed, his emotions were under control, he’d graduated highschool just last week and made sure not to touch any sort of alcoholic beverage at the after party Hizashi had forcefully shoved him into. And he was coping well with the cliche ‘ _let bygones be bygones’_ bullshit ringing in his head for well over two months after said regretful, wreck of a night. 

But, let bygone be bygones was _definitely_ not applicable in this situation because, well, _fuck_. 

Because apparently he had procreated a child at the age of seventeen. 

And the said child was sleeping soundly, completely unlike the jolts of panic coursing through his nerves. 

Now, he wasn't gullible enough to believe _any_ child left at his doorstep was going to be his. No. That was plain stupid. But the confirming factor was a letter that came with the baby containing basket, a piece of paper he had read over three times now.

_Dear Shouta,_

_I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking. And this baby that you got along with this lovely letter is the result of our very passionate night. Due to the scene before you, the conclusion should be obvious;_ I’m abandoning the child. 

_Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a shitty mother, I_ know _. But having that milk sucking mush-face was not by choice, I’d have aborted it if I could. I was originally going to shove her off to an orphanage, but turns out, I’m not so shitty after all. I made the_ effort _to find_ you _, her dear papa, and shipped her mush-face to you. After all, it takes two to tango, and I did my part by carrying her for nine months and tolerating her for two extra months, now you do yours._

_I’m a free spirit. I don't want to be shackled by children or relationships or any of that mucky bullshit. But the last time we met, you said you were a hero-in-training and all you heroes are good for is wearing your hearts on your sleeves. I’m sure you’ll take good care of her. Or not. Your fucking choice really, she’s not my responsiblty anymore._

_Goodluck to parenthood!_ _  
_

_With a pinch of love,_

_Your baby mama._

_(p.s, you can do a DNA test if you don’t believe me, either way, don't toss her back to me!)_

He crumpled the letter this time. The _sheer_ audacity of this woman...

*

When the sun dipped and the sky flush purple, he didn't exit his apartment to perform his usual patrols. 

(More like he couldn't.)

What would he do to the child he still had yet to confirm was his? What would he do once the child woke up from her slumber? How could he find the mother of this child and sue her till kingdom come? _What would he do if the child turned out to be his?_

Before his head exploded with the swirling thoughts, he unpocketed his phone and dialed Hizashi. Then Kayama. Both of whom should be finishing their patrols and on their way home.

He sighed, dropping his phone on the wooden table and stood up to walk where he kept the basket. To his adding apprehension, the child was _awake_. It— _she_ blinked at him, brilliant viridescent eyes focusing to where he was. 

“Don't cry.” he commanded, thinking she was going to, and he _really_ hoped she wouldn't. 

He was eighteen and _barely_ started his hero career, he was in no shape or form ready for parenthood. Heck even actual married people weren't ready for parenthood and raised the most dysfunctional little shits, then what was _he_ compared to them? And that was assuming if this child was _actually_ his. To which he hoped she really _wasn't_ , so that he could hand her over to the police to find her loony-bin mother and locate her genuine father or to just place her in a nice, homey orphanage. 

Shouta continued to watch the baby as if she was a ticking time bomb. And the baby stared back at him with almost bored eyes. Could babies even have bored eyes? 

A knock resounded and his attention left the child abruptly before zooming to the front door and yanked it open with such force, startling the shit out of the other two behind the door. 

“What’s up with your face, Sho?” Hizashi questioned without missing a beat. 

Kayama tossed her hair behind her and quirked an eyebrow, “What emergency could you _possibly_ have that we had to meet before Friday?”

Shouta didn't say anything, ushering them both in before promptly stuffing the crumpled paper inside Hizashi’s hand. “Some woman left a baby outside my door and I have no idea on what to do with it.” 

“What?” 

“....pftt”

Kayama bit her cheeks, finding Hizashi’s styled hair more intriguing than Shouta’s unamused face. 

“Read that, she left it in the basket along with the child.” he gestured to the crumple paper in Hizashi’s hand while Kayama spotted the infamous basket. 

“Read it out loud!” Kayama instructed, prancing past an obviously peeved man to reach the child. 

Shouta felt an oncoming headache as he too, turned to reach where Kayama was. Hizashi shrugged, himself surprised at how calm he was being at the prospect of someone leaving a real, _live_ baby at his insomniac best friend’s house, “Okay, I’m reading it…” and he smoothed over the creases on the pink paper, clearing his throat to read it more smoothly, “ _Dear Shouta, I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking_ — _holy cow— Sho,_ what the fuck am I reading?!”

Shouta flinched, his grey eyes finding the green orbs once more, although this time, she was staring at Kayama with the same bored eyes. And while Kayama had been enamoured by the child for a split second, Hizashi’s zealous letter recitation had her slipping off the sofa which nearly caused the basket to topple along with her, but Shouta’s hands secured the child before the basket fell while Kayama shrieked at the baby falling. 

Only when Kayama saw that the baby hadn't taken the fall did her head whip at the letter Hizashi was withholding, his eyes practically bulging out his yellow goggles. 

*

“Let me get this straight.” Kayama said, “You fucked someone, and this _lunatic_ lady _somehow_ found your address, parceled a goddamn baby with a letter that says she’s _abandoning_ the child to you because _you’re_ the _papa_ and she’s irresponsible as fuck. And you’re not sure if the baby is _yours_ , but you remember rolling in the bed with someone twelve months ago?”

“Vaguely, yes.” Shouta answered calmly, his hand still awkwardly withholding the child. 

“Shouta,” Kayama pressed, running a hand through her dark purple hair, “I have no words of comfort for you. Seriously dude, your what? Eighteen? If the DNA results come out positive, then you're fucked.” 

“That was very reassuring.” Shouta quipped back, leaning back on the sofa because his back was getting stiff.

“Did it ever cross your mind to use _protection_?” Kayama egged on, “Or, _I don’t know_ , take one of your friends down to where ever you were going so that we could watch over you from doing anything _stupid_ —”

“That’s enough.” Hizashi cut in, still staring down at the most impetuous piece of letter he had ever read, “You can’t change what’s already been done. The only thing we can do is give this child a better home.” 

Kayama snorted, eyes wandering to Shouta’s awkward hold on the child, “You’re speaking as if you’re sure that she isn't Sho’s kid.” 

Hizashi looked up, meeting Shouta’s tired gaze with solemn eyes, “Be honest, if she _does_ turn out to be your kid, can you guarantee a healthy environment for her to grow up in? Can you handle the extra workload of looking after a baby during the day and doing your job as a hero in the night? Can you clean up after a child when you only clean up this apartment once a week? Baby’s are high maintenance, you know? They cry, they shit as soon as they eat, diapers, clothes, doctor visits, you think you can handle that when you’re like the least _maintenance_ needing person I know?” he sighed deeply, “Do you, yourself, think you’re capable of looking after a kid, Sho? Answer me honestly.” 

“....no.” 

Hizashi smiled sadly, “Then you know what to do.” 

*

Wind flapped around at him harshly, pushing his capture weapon against his nape while his hair rose up, resembling when he activated his quirk. 

_Then you know what to do._

He didn't know what to do. 

Sure Hizashi was being pragmatic, slapping all the facts at his face and listing him reasons _why_ he couldn't raise a kid. And he appreciated his friend for that. But if there was an off chance the child was _his_ , and he had just let the kid go because he couldn't raise her— which was sort of a valid reason because why make the child suffer when she could live a much happier life?

Still, it didn't feel right to give her away. Not when she _might_ be his. _~~Not when there was a ninety-nine percent chance that it was his.~~_

He understood the effects of a soulless childhood. And god forbid, he would never subject a similar experience to his own kid, but still. 

…... _I’m sure you’ll take good care of her. Or not. Your fucking choice really,_ _she’s not my responsibilty anymore._

 _…...._ _I’d have aborted it if I could_ _. I was originally going to_ _shove her off to an orphanage_ _, but turns out, I’m not so shitty after all. I made the effort to find you,_ _her dear papa,_

His chest tightened as he jumped to the garbage dump below, 

_She’s not my responsibility anymore._

Then mush-face was supposed to be his responsibility? Him? Eighteen year old Aizawa Shouta who struggled to feed himself properly? 

_I’d have aborted her (you) if I could_

That’s exactly what his mother sneered at him before leaving to work. 

_Shove her off to an orphanage,_

Such a cruel thing to say to a child. 

_Her dear papa_

~~Him~~. 

Shouta broke into a run, exiting the narrow alley as his blood thrummed. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father—

_Not until the test proved it._

*

Shouta strolled into his apartment at sharp twelve eight at midnight, a large bag hanging off his right arm as he tugged his silver goggles under his capture weapon. 

Yamada was dozing on the single sofa with his mouth open, his grating snores resounding the living room while Kayama was beside the basket, the child resting on her chest and an empty bottle hanging off her right hand.

The first thing he did was set down the bag filled with random baby products he bought on the kitchen counter, then stalked over to Kayama to retrieve the kid and put her back in the basket. And _behold_ , the child was stark awake, looming at him with those green eyes that seemed too unsettling on a child. 

"What're you awake for?" he mumbled stupidly. 

The kid blinked, opening her mouth as if to talk, but all that escaped was deflated babble, then her light brows furrowed, in concentration or anger, he couldn't tell, but it was the first expression she made other than that bored expression.

He found it amusing. 

Then a 'poof' echoed and he stifled a laugh. 

"You had to take a shit, huh?" he asked, not bothering to leave the amusement out his tone. 

The child looked close to crying now, cheeks puffed and eyes angry. So much emotion packed in a two month old child's face, it was almost surreal. He placed her close to his chest and picked up the supplies he bought, then walked over to his room to somehow change her nappy. 

The body was so light and thin, barely anything on her bones except for the little fat on her cheeks. Just _what_ did that woman feed her? He lifted one foot and wiped the tiny butt all the while the child tried to kick up a fuss. 

"I'm _trying_ to clean you." he stated the obvious, "So stay till, alright?" 

Not alright at all, apparently. She seemed to get more aggressive at his words, kicking at his hands and grumbling wildly, but never crying, her eyes were glinting so furiously that he'd think he committed a great offence to her. Finally, having enough of the nasty smell evading his nose, he grabbed hold of her tiny feets that perfectly fit in one palm and lifted her up gently to get the task over with. 

She calmed down after that, although still glaring at him. And he ignored it, reaching for a fresh nappy. Then dressed her in a simple green onesie after tossing the stained one she wore in the bin. The blanket she was smothered in looked new, so he tossed that in his overflowing laundry basket instead and wrapped her in a cat **eared** blanket before placing her on his bed with the right amount of barricade pillows. 

He knew his qualifications on taking care of a child was shit. He was well aware of that. But he at least had the right to know whether this kid was his or not before giving her away, right? Hizashi wasn't too keen on that idea, but Kayama seemed to be on board despite her incensed sarcasm. Hence why they agreed to babysit her till he came back. 

Either way, she was going to send to a 'better' home so that she could live a much better life and this chapter of his life was going to close forever. 

Yeah. It was— " _Hnnngg_!" 

He peered down at the noise. 

"Hnnnngh!" she was kicking his thighs despite the wrap she was in, eyes watery once more, but the look in her eyes was unadulterated frustration. 

Impressive. 

"....are you takin' a shit again?" 

She screamed this time, her fisted hands moving frantically as if hoping to punch him. 

What is it that kids did? They shat, screamed, cried, laughed, slept and ate— _ah_ , she was hungry. 

"Okay, okay, just don't cry." he attempted to comfort her, taking the weight-less child from the barricade he created. He exited the room with the milk formula he purchased and snagged the empty bottle from Kayama to which she woke up. 

"...Sho? You're here?" she grumbled, rubbing at her eyes, yawning. "Wha' time iszit'? I think 'm goin' to crash 'ere for the— THE BABY! THE BABY'S MISSING!"

Hizashi slid from the sofa he was slumbering on, head shaking at the commotion as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Shouta rolled his eyes, "She’s with me."

"Dude, when'd you get home?" Hizashi asked hoarsely, peering at his friend while Shouta sacked the child on him and wandered off to the kitchen. He climbed back on the sofa, his hold a little clumsy on the weightless bundle and Kayama was already curling on the two seated sofa to continue her slumber. 

Shouta didn't answer, shrugging at the question as he washed the bottle, then washed it once more with hot water before adding the formula and shook it to the point of foam rising. He thrusted the bottle at Hizashi’s waiting hands and sat on the wooden coffee table, observing the kid's action with critical eyes. 

"I have the six am shift so I won't be able to go with you to the hospital, neither can Kayama. You sure you're going to be alright?" 

Shouta scoffed, "I'm not a kid." 

Hizashi shrugged, "That's fine." for awhile, the faint sound of suckling was all that was heard before Hizashi let out a deep sigh, "You know, I can already think of what's going to happen next." 

"What?" 

"Nevermind." Hizashi waved it off. 

*

Shouta was having a crisis. 

And his crisis was blaring in all directions. 

First was the DNA test, which was only a fifteen minutes process. 

And it was a fucking match. No surprise there. 

No, what came after that was more gear grinding. 

So he sat in the hospital cafeteria, one hand resting on the carrier on his chest and the other hand twirling a pen, deeply submerged in his thoughts to think of a _name_. The kid was going to need her official documents in check if she was going to be sent to a ‘better’ home, not to mention all the vaccines the damnable woman probably _forgot_ to get the kid with her irresponsible stature in full swing. He seriously doubted _where_ this kid was born too, what kind of fuck up medical establishments didn't procure documents of birth? Illegal ones, obviously. 

_Or_ there was a chance that she _did_ give birth to the kid normally and secured all legal documents and just _chose_ not to give it to him because it would lead him right to her. If she wasn’t dumb enough to get caught by the cameras near his apartment, then the former possibility wasn't too far off the mark. 

Estimating her birth date was a little tricky when the woman gave him only vague facts to work with, but he could narrow it down to some day in January. So he wrote down twenty ninth as the final day, time could be made up easily and one of the parents' names was left vacant, _but the name_. The _name_ was on a national level of difficulty. 

His thought process was interrupted when he felt tiny thumps against his chest. She was staring again. “Hungry again?” and he didn't need a reply to start making a new bottle. 

He watched as she suckled the bottle with a conflicted gaze. The matter of the name didn't even _need_ to be serious. The people who were supposedly going to give her a ‘better’ home were going to rename her anyways, what use was pondering over it this much? He sighed deeply. “You know what? I’m going to name you the first thing that comes into my mind.” and he took a deep breath, mentally shuffling his brain as the suckling sound barely made into his ears. He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, shaking his head and probably looking like a lunatic, but when he opened his eyes and peered down at the kid’s bright, always angry eyes, a name clicked in his mind.

“Asuka.” he said, “ _Aizawa Asuka_.” he tested, blinking at the kid. And of course the odd kid looked at him, slightly astounding him when her gaze wasn't bored or irate, just a slight _awe_?... or he might’ve read too much into it. 

Either ways, for the rest of the hospital trip, she didn't glare at him or loom at him like he was the scum of earth— _Except_ for when he tried cleaning after her excretion. 

It was three thirty-two in the afternoon when he finally escaped the hospital with the paperwork, kid’s— _Asuka’s_ overdue check up which resulted in the pediatrician threatening him to oversee the kid’s health properly or he was going to call child services. Well, it wasn't the doctors _exact_ words, but it implied all the same. Necessary vaccine shots were given along with a little rattle to distract Asuka from the pain. Not that the kid needed that, she was practically asleep when it happened anyways. 

And now he was strolling the busy streets, on the way to his apartment so that he could rest up for a few hours before his shift started. But then Asuka started _giggling_ and he almost crashed into a pole. 

Evidently, the consistently foul mooded child’s source of happiness was Kamihara Shinya, his classmate, though more avidly known as Pro hero Edgeshot. She was squealing now, fist waving not to demand for her bottle, but due to pure excitement of witnessing _Edgeshot._ And the man wasn't even doing anything, he was just walking, most likely doing his patrol. 

Still, it was a rare occurrence for him that she was _this_ happy. So he did what he thought every temporary father who was going to give his daughter up for adoption solely because he wasn't qualified to raise her— he strode up the hero and greeted him. 

“Aizawa.” Shinya said, bobbing his head as he acknowledged his classmate. 

“Kamihara.” Shouta parroted, wondering what else he was supposed to say. Turns out, he didn't need to say anything because Asuka had taken the liberty to tug onto the hero’s red scarf, babbling zealously in baby speech as Shinya blinked in surprise. 

“Your imouto?” Shinya questioned, genuinely bemused at the cheerful child. 

“Daughter, actually.” he countered, trying his best to swallow the defensiveness in his tone. A daughter he was soon going part with so that she could be with a ‘better’ family. 

“Oh.” his astoundment was clear, “Daughter.” Shinya repeated dumbly, “A cute daughter you have there, Aizawa.” he recovered, slightly bending his posture so that he could meet the child’s eyes. 

“Well, I won’t be taking too much of your time since you're on your patrol,” Shouta said, reaching for his pocket to retrieve his phone, “but can you take a picture with her? She seems to like you. Or your costume. Whichever, really.” and he wiggled Asuka out the carrier as he handed the befuddled hero the two month old child, “Watch out for the head.” he reminded, taking a step back as he focused the camera, and started the countdown. When he clicked enough pictures, none of which Asuka was motionless, he slipped back his phone before promptly taking Asuka and waved the dazed classmate goodbye. 

*

Later, he didn't detour to the apartment like he initially planned, but wandered off to the beach which was mostly bare of people. 

He clipped off the carrier from his shoulder and heaved the girl out with no effort before taking off the carrier completely and discarded it on top of the baby bag. Then he sat her down on his thigh, safely tucking her in his arm.

And she was staring again, green eyes glimmering from the sun resting on the horizon. “You don’t seem like a normal baby.” he pronounced lightly. 

Her reaction was what he wasn't expecting. 

A smile. 

She seemed to be doing that a lot since the past fifteen minutes. 

“Look, _Asuka_ , I know you won’t remember or process anything I’m about to say, but this’ll probably be the only time I can spend time with you before you're sent to a ‘better’ home.” she blinked, head lolling to the side and his hand reflexively went to the tuft of black hair on her head, fixing his posture so that she wouldn't droop to a side. “I’m eighteen. And turning nineteen this year. And as harsh as this sounds, you were a mistake.” he caressed the fluffy hair on her head absent-mindedly, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“But still, I’d like to apologize. You didn't ask to be born, and you didn't have a choice in getting such a devilishly irresponsible _mama_ or a severely underqualified _papa_.” he traced the lining of her brows and brushed the hair on her forehead with his thumb, “I’m sorry, Asuka. I’m sorry that you have terrible parents. But you deserve better, and that’s exactly why we’re putting you up for adoption.” Asuka’s fingers clamped around the side of his palm and he smiled amusedly, she probably didn't like him being so touchy. 

“Don't worry about being hauled off to another dump. I’ll make sure to review the list of guardians myself. It’s the least I could do for leaving you with your mama for two months.” he blinked to clear his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating when he witnessed Asuka's lips wobble. “— shit are you going to cry?” he panicked internally, pulling his hand away. Did she hate being touched this much? He watched cautiously as her eyes sheened with unshed tears, “Sorry.” he mumbled, patting her chest to calm her down. “Sorry.” 

And she bursted, _crying_ for the first time since appearing at his doorsteps, her tiny mouth produced such screeches that the elderly couple walking along the shore whipped their heads at him. Shouta cursed under his breath, simultaneously trying to position her head on his shoulder in attempt to imitating the actions of a woman he saw at hospital who calmed their child _fairly_ easily. But Asuka didn't allow him to position her, fisting her hands on his shirt and burying her head into the junction of his arm. 

“Asuka, _please_ stop crying.” he attempted pathetically. “... _papa_.. will do _anything_ just stop crying, please.” ‘papa’ was exceedingly odd coming from his mouth, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

“ _Oh my_ ,” the old woman trudged towards him, “Is she alright? She’s crying quite frightfully.” 

And Shouta smiled awkwardly, “She was fine moments ago, but…” he trailed off, the scene of Asuka grasping onto him perfectly explaining his situation. 

“Would you mind if I tried?” the old lady asked, her hands extending before he agreed. Not that he minded. Anything to calm Asuka was fine. 

Evidently, it _wasn't_ fine for Asuka because her crying turned up a notch, and the hold on his shirt tightened when the old lady tried to take her from him. And when she tugged the small weightless body, Shouta almost slipped his footing on the sand. He didn't know who was stronger, Asuka or the lady _trying_ to help, either ways, he’d figured the lady wouldn't be of any help.

“Seems like she’s quite attached to you.” the lady pointed out. Was that meant to be a pun?

Fortunately, Asuka’s crying lessened when he initiated contact with her black fluff of hair, though the death grip was still on his shirt as her head lolled to the side once more. This time, he swallowed his amusement when she proceeded to glare at the old lady. 

The old lady didn't appear to mind it, but just waved at Asuka with a good-natured smile before joining her husband. 

He took a seat on the sand once more, settling her on his thighs before rummaging the bag to haul out the wet tissues. “That’s one heck of a scare you gave me there...” he murmured, cleaning the tear tracks as she seemed to snuggle into his side more, her watery eyes magnifying the vibrance of her emerald orbs, and _warmth_ bloomed in his chest, fuzzy and light as he warded of the temptation to—

No, he couldn't _afford_ this feeling. Not when he knew the consequences.

When he wiped the snot from her red nose, she caught his palm once more. This time, he didn't pull back. 

This time, Asuka brought it closer to her cheeks, almost as if trying to hug him. 

_This time_ , Shouta couldn't help but break into a smile. 

*

“....You bought a cot.” 

“Yes.” 

Hizashi sighed, slumping on the single sofa and Kayama followed suit, taking her place on the two seated one next to Shouta who was pulling on his boots. “Am I imagining things or is this kid actually smiling?” Kayama queried, critically observing the child who seemed to be holding a rattle, her green eyes focused on the array of toys hanging above her. 

Shota said nothing, taking his knife out the holster as he cleaned it with a beige cloth. 

“It’s not only the kid who’s in a good mood.” Hizashi enunciated, reaching for the file on the wooden table. 

Shota skillfully ignored that comment as well. 

“... a match, huh?” Hizashi drawled, “Well, this was expected. And _look_ , you went ahead and named her too.” 

Shouta rolled his eyes, “How else was I supposed to get her vaccinated?” 

“Aizawa Asuka’s a good name.” Hizashi said instead, nodding promptly. 

Kayama snorted loudly, “Yeah, thank god he didn't name her anything like _‘Hobbos’_ or _‘Fishbait’_ or _'Prickface'_. Good job on the naming, Sho.” 

“Hobbos, Fishbait and Prickface were perfectly fine names.” Shouta grumbled, exiting his apartment to start his patrols. 

He continued on his usual path, sticking by the shadows and maneuvering in the more likely places for crimes to occur. His thoughts though, were dedicated to something else entirely. Hizashi and Kayama had taken it up on themselves to look for suitable candidates and they hadn't bought any to him yet, they were busy people too, after all, with Hizashi and Kayama running their start-up agency with only few people to help him. Not to mention all the extra workload they didn't  _ want _ to quit, with Hizashi’s radio show and Kayama’s modeling gigs, they were buried head-deep into work. 

Maybe they’d take a lot more time in finding a _suitable_ candidate for Asuka—

“—you said you wouldn't do it!” 

“And I _won’t_! I seriously won’t, Miko, so come back to me, alright? I was just _really_ angry then— I wasn't thinking straight, you _know_ how I get when I’m angry. Just, _please_ , come back, I can’t cope without _you_ and Aoi.” 

A lover’s spat, he observed. Or something more than that. He balanced on a balcony railing as he watched a man and a woman. The woman seemed to be on edge, her red-ish brown hair flaring at short intervals. And the man had horns sprouting from his forehead, his hands going wildly as he explained about not doing something anymore. 

“You won’t change.” the woman trembled out shakily, stepping back as she did so, “Time and time again, you keep saying the _same thing,_ repeating the same _bullshit_ about not doing it and you turn around and do the _exact_ thing you _promised_ not to do. I have my limits, Itone, I can’t handle _you_ , your _anger_ , your _violence—_ Aoi and I deserve better than your scum ass—”

And Shouta moved, hauling his capture weapon at the raised fist and securing the man scum named Itone. “That’s enough.” 

“Who the fuck are you?!” 

Shouta jumped in the middle and threw a punch that resulted in the man scum landing on the floor. “Are you alright, mam?” he questioned gently, tightening his warps to the point where man scum started wiggling. 

“A-ah, yes, I’m alright,” she stuttered out, “t-thank you for your help.” 

And he nodded promptly, dialing the police to report an attempted assault. 

“Are you Miko’s new lover?! _You bitch_! I _knew_ you were cheating on me—” and his foot aviated to the man scum’s stomach, 

Later when the man scum Itone was taken away, Shouta offered to escort her to the nightcare she was initially going to before being held up by her ex-husband solely because the woman was _still_ trembling. 

“Um, you don't have to walk me all the way to the night care.” she offered shakily. Shouta wondered if she was reeling from the punch she nearly received or was just naturally nervous. Probably a bit of both. 

“It’s no problem.” he replied simply. And it really wasn't. He had to patrol the area anyways. 

She chuckled nervously, “Then I’ll warn you, Eraserhead-san, my son’s a hero fanatic, he might just jump on you if he sees you beside me.” 

He doubted that. Underground heroes were rarely someone's favorite. 

“Itone…” she started, looking straight ahead, “he’s not going to serve any jail time, is he? He always gets out on bail because his family.” 

Shouta exhaled into his scarf, scanning his brain for words to comfort the woman. 

“And his family absolutely _hates_ me. I don’t come from money, you know? And I can’t even say meeting him was the _worst_ thing that ever happened to me because _Aoi_ wouldn't be here if not for him—” she sniffed, and Shouta tensed. “ _Four years,_ four years I put up with _him_ , his harsh words, violent beatings, all because I _thought_ that _one day_ , one day he was going to _change_ and we could be a _h-happy family_ — but then he hit _Aoi_ for the first time and I couldn't t-take it anymore.” she was full on sobbing now and Shouta dug into his pockets hoping something bearing semblance to a tissue would apparate. And behold, the wet tissue which wasn't wet anymore that he had used to wipe Asuka’s snot and tears was right there, snuggly fitted, although a little crusty, but it should do the job, right?

He offered it and she took it mumbling a short thanks. 

“I’m sorry for burdening you with my problems— but it sort of spilled out before I knew it and—” she broke into a wrack of sobs once more, “He w-wouldn't leave us alone that _a-annoying piece of shit_. I-I can’t even do my job right, Eraserhead-san, can’t h-handle people talking to me loudly, and I flinch _every time_ my boss tries to relay his feedback on my reports because he uses a lot of ha-hand language when he t-talks— and I’m _so_ pathetic for making him feel bad, the poor man’s been so nice to me and- and I just react like that—” 

She blew her nose blaringly, “And A-Aoi, my baby boy, he’s such a sweet thing really, h-he’s the only thing that keeps me going these days and I-I can’t even spend some quality time with h-him with my ex-in-laws _bitching_ about giving his custody to them— _like hell I’m doing that!_ ” he was silently cheering for her at this point, “The court c-case is still on-going and Itone's not really s-supposed to approach me or have a-any direct contact with m-me until the final verdict is announced.” 

She looked at him for the first time since she started speaking, grey eyes red from crying as her hair continued to flare at an alarming rate, “But I’m sure I’m going to win. I got lucky with a good lawyer, you see, h-he’s handling this case as pro bono, apparently, and I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

This was his que to say something inspirational, wasn't it? What could he say? What would _Hizashi_ say?— _Hizashi would sob along to her_. Then what would Kayama say? 

No, Kayama would be much worse. Itone might even be found with a incaptiated dick with her in the mixture. 

“That’s amazing, mam.” he decided. 

“Miko.” she said hoarsely, “Mam feels old.” 

“Miko-san.” he corrected, “You’re an amazing okaa-san.” he added. And she _was_. To hold out for so long only to break free from those shackles because her _son_ had been hurt. She was a hundred times better than _his_ mother, or Asuka’s mother. He unpocketed his phone and did something he’d never done; he asked for her number. 

(but was going to do many more times in the future.)

“I’m not wooing you or anything like, Miko-san.” he explained before she could jump to conclusions, “It’s just that, I have a really good therapist and I thought you’d probably need something to help with your… trauma. It’s best to get it treated before it gets worse.” 

And for a moment he thought he might’ve fucked up, but she _spoke_ and said nothing advocating that he was a creep. 

“Thank you.” she said, her hair resting on her shoulder instead of aviating. “You’re very kind, Eraserhead-san, I’m sure your child must be happy to have a otousan like you.” 

He froze, _what the fuck?_

Then heard an onslaught of _sorry's_ , “—I didn't mean to come off as creepy or anything, it’s just that your smell’s mixed with milk powder and baby cologne and I just _assumed…_ ” she trailed off, looking sheepish.

“It's fine, Miko-san.” Shouta said. He didn't even know he smelt like that. Was that why that cat officer stared at him like some foregin species? Still, to think someone would say he was a _good father_ was alarming all the same. 

She recovered sooner than he expected. “Kids are a handful, you know? My Aoi, he’s so active that if I take my eyes off him for two minutes, he’d be dumping his toys in the toilet or emptying a whole bottle of detergent on the sofa.” a chuckle escaped her, and he winced. That was shit ton of cleaning Miko-san had to commit herself to. “and when he learnt how to open doors— _god_ that child gave me so many heart attacks, I caught him leaving the house on several occasions— and there was also one time I found a packet of boneless chicken under my pillow." her hair flared lightly and he was thinking maybe her breathing and hair were connected in some ways. 

"But he's easier to handle now that he's four." a fond smile adorned her face, then she looked at him with knowing eyes, and he almost stiffened, "It gets easier with time." 

Yeah, only if he was going to raise the kid. _But he wasn't._

Someone else was. 

Someone else is going to give Asuka everything like Miko-san gave Aoi. 

He didn't need to reciprocate because the night care came into view, it’s bold letters illuminating with rainbow fairy lights. Near the glass door was a woman greeting another woman and when the woman caught sight of Miko, she offered her a smile too. 

“Aoi! Your okaa-san’s here!” she hollered, peering over her back, “And tell Rui-obaachan that Izuku’s okaa-san’s here too!” the woman with the mighty voice turned to them once more, wearing an apologetic smile as she clutched both her hands in front of her.

“Was Aoi well-behaved?” Miko-san asked, somehow appearing even more apologetic. 

“Oh yes, _absolutely_.” the woman said, then her gaze flickered to Shouta behind her and beamed in a way that made chills go down his spine. “ _Oh_? Who might you be, sir? A potential customer? Did Miko-chan tell you about this place?”

“...."

“Eraserhead-san might be a potential customer, yes,” Miko-san simpered, and stopped himself from reeling. “Unfortunately, I didn't poach him.” 

“Oh?” the woman repeated, orange eyes glinting, “A pro hero, huh? We don't get many of those around here, but you’re _always_ welcome! We open at six in the evening and close in the morning, and you don't have to worry about our caretakers dozing or slacking off at their jobs, they’re _highly_ skilled with caring for children; newborns, toddlers, preschoolers. Here, at Tulip Night Care, we’re experienced and equipped with dealing _any_ kind of child thrown our way! As for safety—”

“Mama!” a blue blur dashed out the excessively lit establishment, crashing into Miko-san and hugging her legs, “You’re late!” 

Shouta was just glad the advertisement was over. 

“What’d I say about running, Aoi-chan?” a short woman lumbered out next, silver hair pulled back into a messy bun as it revealed her strikingly heavy bagged eyes. She was carrying a child who was stuck at her hips, a head full of messy green hair snuggled into the junction of her neck, her gaze briefly shot to Shouta before focusing on the other woman. “Sorry for the wait, Inko-chan, ‘zuku was hard to wake up.” 

Inko waved it off, reaching for her kid while the kid readily slouched into his mother’s embrace. Shouta watched as she ruffled the kid’s unruly hair and hugged the boy, and he watched _more_ , almost a ghost smile stretching on his face as the kid hugged back despite his sleepy stature. 

“A new customer?” a voice interrupted, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was the silver haired woman speaking, eyes narrowed at him. 

“Maybe.” he answered this time, Kayama and Hizashi could catch a break if he could find someone else to babysit Asuka. 

Later, when he escorted the both mother and son to their house, the thread in his mind which revolved around providing a ‘better’ home for Asuka loosened imperceptibly. 

*

The orange-eyed woman was named Sato Yumena and the silver-haired one was Nakamura Utano. The former one was gleaming, and the latter was more interested in Asuka who was in his arms, sucking her sky blue pacifier while tugging at his shoulder length hair. 

“You’re one of those teenage parents, aren't ya?” Utano drawled out, metaphorically poking his eyes with the pencil she was hovering over the clipboard. 

Yumena stabbed an elbow into the other woman while bumbling out sorry’s. 

“And if I _am_.” Shouta said calmly, “Would that be a problem?” 

Utano snorted, evidently not affected by the brutal elbow stab he witnessed, “‘course not, hero—”

“Aizawa Shouta,” he corrected, his head slightly tilted due to Asuka’s grip, “I’m off duty.” 

“Well then, ‘course not, _Shouta-kun._ ” she repeated mirthfully, writing down on the board without moving her charcoal orbs from him, “Do ya know how many teenage parents leave their kids ‘ere? I’ll tell ya the answer; _more_ than the married ones.” 

“That’s right, we don't judge.” Yumena chuckled, “ _We only want your kid._ ” 

That sounded so sinister that even Asuka’s hold on his hair seemed to loosen. 

“What ‘ena means is that we want what’s best for the kids.” Utano rephrased, “So? Are ya in or not?” she jutted the clipboard at him, pen tapping at the place to sign. 

He signed with no hesitation. 

Later that afternoon when he texted Kayama and Hizashi that their services won't be needed, he received a lot more backlash than anticipated. 

*

"Sho, you _can't_ keep doing this." Hizashi gritted out, hand on his hip and brows furrowed to the point that his glasses were falling off his nose. 

Kayama bit her fist from laughing, the shaking of her shoulder intensifying as Shouta threw another file into the three foot pile of files. 

"If they don't fit _my_ criterias, then yes I can." 

Asuka's rattled echoed and Hizashi appeared close to banging his head onto the nearest pole, "And what exactly _is_ your criteria?" 

Shouta gave him a pointed look, "You expect me to toss her back to the same hellhole she escaped from?" 

" _Sho_ , my dude," Hizashi cried, " _none_ of these people are going to be like her shitty okaa-san— their files made it here _because_ they _want_ a child." 

"And I suppose you just want me to believe everything on these papers?" 

Kayama slipped from her chair and Hizashi turned around from his best friend's bored face to look at Asuka because his blood pressure was rising at an alarming rate. 

"Sho, it's been a month since 'suka-chan was left here," Kayama drawled amusedly, "you might as well admit that you don't _want_ to give her up for adoption." 

Shouta pretended not to hear, finding the file in his hand very intriguing. 

“I mean, that works too, if he’s actually willing to admit it.” Hizashi said, prodding at Asuka’s cheeks. Asuka inreturn, swatted his hand, vehemently waving her rattle while a familiar glare settled on her face. 

“The Suzuki’s look like a good candidate,” Shouta pronounced, “but they already have five children so may be not.” he murmured, hauling the file to join the others as he grabbed another from the deflated pile beside him. 

“ _Wow_ , he even started commenting.” Kayama whistled, “You just broke him, ‘zashi.” 

*

On month four, Kayama and Hizashi sparsely brought in new candidates with the excuse of their bustling agency. 

And was pleasantly surprised at the news of Shouta going to meet Asuka’s potential to-be parents, _so_ much so that they sneaked into the diner Shouta was appointed to meet them (parents-to-be) with their best disguises on. 

“This is a miracle.” Kayama whispered behind the menu, “It’s a fucking miracle— he’s _actually_ going to part with Asuka.” eyes peaked at an unusually formal dressed Shouta, face cleanly shaved, hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. 

“Wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you,” Hizashi whispered back, miserably failing at tucking back his blonde hair into the green wig, “he might be doing this to fuck with us.”

“I don't think he’d dress up _that_ nice just to mess us.” Kayama countered.

“You underestimate his pettiness.” 

Then they watch as a couple who radited ‘elegant’ in every aspect join the table as Shouta greeted them with the same sincerity. 

Creepy. Shouta was creepy, so was the couple he chose. 

“We’re so happy that you called, Aizawa-san, we saw Asuka-chan’s profile and were _absolutely_ smitten.” the elegant lady gushed. 

The man flashed a billion dollar smile, “Yes, we’re so happy that you considered us worthy of parenting Asuka-chan. We won’t disappoint your trust, Aizawa-san.”

And the couple’s head dipped at a neutral face Shouta and the two friends just _knew_ that something was severely wrong with the whole setting. 

“Yes, before that.” Shouta said, and both Kayama and Hizashi missed the next few words because a chirpy waiter barreled in front them, asking if they were ready to order. So Kayama brushed the girl off with two simple meals of fish and chips and was _close_ to using her quirk when the waiter asked for _drinks_. 

_WHy was_ drinks _important when there was a crucial conversation they had to be eavesdropping on?!_

Though when the waiter shooed away, the scene in front of them was baffling. 

“You… you… you _do_ realise what adoption means, right? Aizawa-san?” the woman was stuttering out, appearing quite incensed. “It means _we_ are going to be Asuka-chan’s _legal_ parents and you don't have a say in how we decide to raise the child.” 

“Yes, I am very much _aware_ of what adoption means.” Shouta drawled out, “But if you can’t accept these conditions, then I’m afraid this topic isn't up for discussion anymore.” 

“These conditions are _outrageous_.” the man seethed next. “We can’t _possibly_ prevent minor injuries children are going to have during play time, nor can we block _every_ harsh thing this world has to offer— just _what_ were you on when you made this contract?!” 

Kayama snorted so hard that she had to look away from the elegant man’s flaring nostrils. Hizashi’s lips stretched in a grin, throwing a _told-you-so_ at Kayama as she tried to recover from her laughter. 

There was _no way_ Asuka was going to be adopted. No way Shouta was _ever_ letting her go. And the two friends were aware of that fact ever since they witnessed the pure moment of Shouta kissing the girl’s forehead when she was sound asleep. 

They didn't know _why_ this was still going on.

 _Why_ Shouta was so _insistent_ on finding a better home for Asuka when she was already home. 

The changes in Shouta were _so_ drastic in the last few months. Not to mention the dump of an apartment he was accommodating took the most prominent blow. Every time Kayama and Hizashi came over the weekends, something new was always present in the apartment. It may be a bottle sterilizer on the kitchen counter, a bouncer chair, a stroller— heck that was _nothing_ compared to the storm that conjured up in his room. A whole new wardrobe was dedicated to Asuka’s belongings, a smaller laundry basket was next to his not-so-anymore overflowing laundry basket, his dresser which barely held anything other than the rare perfume he used and the after shave was now filled with ranges of baby cologne, baby lotion, baby oil, baby wipes, baby powder and basically _anything_ that was useful for a _baby_. 

The first time Kayama had got into his room to use the bathroom, she almost tripped over her feet from how _clean_ it was, and only due to her bursting bladder did she prevent herself from showing Hizashi the scene right then and there. But later when she entered the spacious bathroom, she really _did_ slip over a yellow duck _near a damn baby bathtub._

They watched with glimmering eyes as the elegant couple strutted out of the diner and Shouta appeared relatively bland before referring to a waiter. Then he promptly stood up, walking in their direction as they both stiffened. 

“If you both ever get a job that entails intelligence gathering, then don't accept it for the sake of our country.” Shouta voiced, correspondingly loosening his tie and popping off the collar button.

Kayama licked her lips, “Can I just say that looked hot as fuck?” 

Hizashi guwaffed, tugging off his wig and hauling it to the seat beside him. 

Shouta sighed, joining their table with an incoherent grumble.

*

On Friday noon, Shouta was vacuuming the fluffy silver carpet, five-month old Asuka was in his room, blissfully asleep, Hizashi was in the kitchen prepping for lunch and Kayama was desperately trying to open a can from the wrong side. 

When the vacuum echo stopped, Shouta could hear Hizashi reprimanding the R-rated hero over having common sense and the baby monitor grumbled, informing that Asuka was no longer asleep. 

Asuka was staring again. Though vastly different from before and not like he was the scum of earth. “Let’s get some food in you.” he mumbled, picking her up as her head lolled on his shoulders, yawning. 

“— dude! How _hard_ is it for you to open a damn can?! You literally pull _this_ part,” Hizashi yelled, demonstrating aggressively. 

“I know how to open a damn can, you damn cockatoo!” 

“YEs, because stabbing the wrong side with a fucking butter knife is the way to go!” 

“You _know_ I can’t cook shit!” 

“Damn right you can’t.” Shouta interrupted, evidently having enough, “So feed Asuka instead.” 

Hizashi snorted, “Try not to mix her formula with a butter knife.” he mocked. And Kayama threw the knife at him to which Hizashi squealed, narrowly dodging it. 

Then it happened. 

And it happened right when Hizashi picked up his chopsticks, Kayama secured Asuka on the bouncer and took her seat, and just as Shouta was done taking off his apron— a simple knock echoed is what happened. 

"Who's that?" Hizashi queried.

"Better not be one of your mails." Shouta grunted, eyeing at Kayama for a brief moment before tossing his apron on the counter. 

"Hey! I spent more time here than my house, you know?" Kayama yelled behind him. 

"Yes and that justifies why it's sent it here." Hizashi mocked. 

Kayama turned up her nose at him and Shouta cold voice echoed in the house, "Why are _you_ here?" 

"Nice to see you still don't have manners." A woman's voice resounded. 

Kayama and Hizashi threw a curious glance at the direction of the voice only to witness a woman step into the house, trying to brush past Shouta and Shouta in return, jolting away from her shoulder with such contempt in his face that it was unnerving. 

"So _this_ is where you were living?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the state of the house and regarding the people with a short nod. Kayama and Hizashi had no idea who she was, but she seemed older than them so they dipped their heads respectfully. 

"How did you find this place?" Shouta asked again, his hair tips flaring despite his quirk being inactive, Hizashi and Kayama didn't think that was a good sign. 

She turned to him, cool blue eyes simply blinking at the disdain directed at her, “My new job.” she answered vaguely, “You never showed up at the house after graduation, Shouta.” 

“Yeah?” Shouta said, smiling wryly, “Didn't think you’d notice, _Kaa-san_.” 

The audience at the table held back their gasps of astoundment. 

“Of course I _noticed._ ” she replied, appearing peeved, “Just what do you take me for?... I’ve been worried about you.” and her grip on the handbag tightened, but Shouta was too incensed to notice the minuscule details. 

The underground hero snorted, “I hadn't been living in that house ever since my third year. It’s going to be a year now, you honestly want me to believe you’re here out of _concern_?” 

“Everything I’ve done was for _you_.” she said slowly. And Shouta’s heart raged inside. She was using that tone again. That manipulative, shitty tone he despised with every inch of his life. 

Yes. neglecting him for her job was for _him_. Verbally abusing him whenever she was drunk was for _him_. Telling him he shouldn't join UA, his _dream school_ because it cost too much was for _him_. Wearing the prettiest smile that made his stomach churn and imparting her words of congratulation when he got a scholarship in his second year while _indirectly_ proposing that she _just might_ make him drop out if he couldn't get the scholarship next year as well was also for _him_. Leaving mid-way through his graduation because her job was evidently more important than her son was also for _him_. 

_Everything was for him._

“Don't lie. If I wanted your _concern_ , _kaa-san_ , I would’ve bothered to tell you about me moving out of the house a year ago.” the urge to punch something was getting increasingly potent and his heart rate wasn't calming down. He didn't want her fake concern. He wanted _nothing_ to do with her. Not with how much negativity he could absorb from her. The only thing she worried about was _money_ ; not her son, _never_ her son.

“Shouta!” 

“You should leave.” he said calmly, “I don’t need your money anymore, kaa-san.” _Haven't needed it since I was sixteen._

“I’m your kaa-san!” she gritted out, her calm facade breaking.

_Yet she never acted like one._

Then Asuka started screaming, her loud voice perforating everyone’s ears with such intensity, Kayama almost jumped from her seat and Hizashi flinched despite himself being half-deaf. The woman with blonde hair and blue eyes seemed startled, her gaze switching to the source of sound and Shouta forgot his anger momentarily, heart spiking for the child that rarely cried. 

“What’s wrong, ‘suka-chan?” Kayama asked, advancing to clip off the belt to take the child out, but Asuka didn't sit still in her hands, sobbing and attempting to push the woman’s face with her tiny fists. “Sho, I think she wants you.” Kayama said, pushing back her seat and standing up to placate Asuka. 

Shouta was already taking Asuka from Kayama’s hands by the time she finished her sentence, and Asuka was fisting his shirt like the day she cried on the beach, snuggling on his shoulder and babbling as if she were complaining about something. She gradually calmed down when his hand kept smoothing over her black, wavy hair, and when her crying was reduced to heavy breathing, the extremely confused woman spoke. 

“Who’s kid is that?” she sounded apprehensive when asking, eyebrows furrowed to the point where her wrinkles bulged out. 

Shouta peered at his mother with a near smug face, “ _Mine_. Aizawa Asuka, your granddaughter. Though I’d prefer you stay away from her.” 

Kayama nibbled on the slab of chicken resting on her rice, determined to blur out the drama. _But damn_ was Shouta’s pettiness reaching new levels. Hizashi tried not to choke on his water as he took continuous sips from it, both of them were aware that Shouta didn't have the best situation at home, and that his relationship with his mother was shaky at best— what they didn't expect was _this_. Whatever _this_ was. 

“You married without me knowing?!” Shouta’s mother screeched, appearing frazzled. 

Shouta wondered if his mother had a loose screw. He was eighteen and asexual, what the fuck would he do with marriage? “No. Asuka’s the product of a one-night stand.” he felt a fist ram into shoulder and Asuka glared at him through her green eyes. 

This kid was calming him down without even trying.

Her nose flared, “A one-night stand?! Are you out of your mind?! You’re _seventeen,_ Shouta, what made you think having—” she exhaled, resting a hand on her chest, probably placating herself, “What do you do to her when you’re out on your jobs? Who takes care of her? And who’s her okaasan?” 

Shouta frowned, “Why do you want to know?” 

“Shouta!” she screamed, “If you’re still mad about me leaving halfway through graduation then that’s _extremely_ childish of you,” she taunted, taking a couple of steps towards him while the scowl on her face deepened. “Taking care of children is not—”

“First of all.” he cut in, “I’m eighteen, kaa-san, not _seventeen._ Second, you’re _sorely_ mistaken if you think I’m angry about what happened at the graduation,” he shifted on his feet, “no, _graduation_ is just the tip of the iceberg.” he pressed, “Lastly, Asuka’s well taken care of and doesn't need _your_ presence to make her life any better.” 

The woman shook, her blonde hair flaring much like Shouta’s did, the used mug behind her rose, the lamp near the mug flickered to light, “I am your _kaa-san_ and you _will_ give me the respect I deserve.” silver eyes glimmered instead of her blue and Shouta knew she was pissed. Not that it intimidated him _anymore_ , but she was still using that sickly, calm, manipulative tone and his hold on Asuka tightened. 

But then the tense atmosphere broke when Asuka screamed, waving her fist at her grandmother with such vigor, emerald eyes glimmering with her usual _‘you’re the scum of this universe’_ glare and Shouta swallowed a laughter because the monumental look was a gem on her squishy face. 

“Why do you feel the need to interfere in my life?” Shouta countered, “You’re just embarrassing yourself in front of my friends, Kaa-san, just act like you _always_ do and ignore me.” 

Hizashi choked on his water and Kayama slipped further down her seat.

“Who’s her okaasan?” she shot back instead. 

Shouta was coming to a conclusion that nothing was going through her thick head. “I don’t know.” he shrugged, finally answering. “Might as well be dead for all I know.” Asuka giggled at that, and he pondered whether this kid actually understood him. 

Though that was a thought he often pondered over. 

She appeared rabid by now, “How can you _possibly_ raise a child without her okaasan?” 

“Well, _I_ didn't have the best one either so I think my daughter will turn out just fine.” 

“ _You disrespectful brat_ —” she started, hair still aviating and her fair skin tinting red, “you know what? Do what you want.” she resigned, a twisted smile stretching on her face instead, “But I’m warning you, Shouta, you’re not qualified to be a parent and that child has _no_ future.” 

Shouta grinned his crazy grin, “I’ll take you up on that challenge.” Both Hizashi and Kayama _wheezed_ at the confirmation without regard to Shouta’s crazy mother. Out of _all_ the ways to confirm that he was going to raise Asuka, it had to be a challenge to his mother. Comical, really. 

They watched as she huffed and twirled around, strutting out the door with her hair tips still flailing. Upon her disappearance out the door, the floating mug crashed to the ground, Hizashi and Kayama were still cackling along with Asuka’s giggles and Shouta, well, he felt a weight evaporate from his chest. 

_He_ was going to raise Asuka. 

Him.

And that thought didn't seem as daunting as it did five months ago. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I had trouble fitting-  
> Mama, papa  
> Otousan, okaasan  
> Haha, chichi - details so please bear with me. I mean sure I could use mom, dad, but I don't want to. 🤷
> 
> Also, eighteen year Shouta is much more expressive (sort of)  
> Keep in mind he’s eighteen so his behavior might vary because he’s inexperienced.  
> I took the realistic approach because as much as thirty-one year old Aizawa wouldn't hesitate to adopt a child (probably), I think eighteen year old Aizawa would differ in that approach.
> 
> It’s just my opinion though. 
> 
> Positive criticism is always welcome. Also, sorry for the typos in advance. And the late, sporadic updates. 
> 
> Hope this chapter was a good read💛
> 
> List of OC’s for this chapter:  
> Miko-san- Mother, customer at nightcare  
> Aoi- Miko’s son  
> Itone- scum bag ex-husband  
> Nakamura Utane- night care worker  
> Sato Yumena- night care worker  
> 


	2. A brewing storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura hates this world, until she doesn't.

Sakura had many regrets in life. _So_ many that she ran out of fingers to count.

But killing herself wasn't one of them. 

Not paying enough attention to her own development as a ninja till the mission to Wave fucked up was regrettable. Her weakness in the chunin exams was regrettable. Hugging Sasuke instead of knocking him unconscious when she had the _perfect_ chance to do so was regrettable. Being a complete bitch to Naruto was regrettable. Stupidly pining after the guy who had tried to kill her _twice_ was regrettable. Allowing Chiyo baa-san to _die_ was regrettable. Not being there— the point _was_ , her regrets stacked up to match the Hokage monument and she _hated_ it. 

So when Madara initiated the Infinite Tsukuyomi right after tossing Naruto’s lifeless body next to Kakashi’s decapitated foot, Sakura knew all hope was lost. 

So when the damnable tree sprouted, sending tremors through the ground and evoking helpless cries from all around, Sakura grabbed her kunai. 

So when the flower flourished and the light shone, Sakura pierced her heart with no hesitation. 

After all, dying was better than a false reality. 

And compared to what her heart was going through _before_ witnessing Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, Tsunade, Ino, Shikamaru, Sai, Choji— _everyone_ get _maimed_ , the pain she suffered was a prickle from a needle. 

So when she crashed on the rock hard ground, forehead meeting with a gnarly root, she didn't regret it one bit. 

*

Sakura wondered if this was afterlife. Because afterlife was comfortable as fuck. It was like swimming in warm jello and not drowning, it was like sleeping till afternoon and waking up fully energized, except she _wasn't_ waking, just floating in never-ending darkness that didn't seem a least bit daunting. And it made her happy. _Exceedingly_ happy. Because if this was after life, then her friends, her mentors, her parents, they were _all_ going through this, _they were all going to be happy._

But her happiness was short lived.

Either afterlife was shoving her to some kind of purgatory or tossing her to hell for killing herself, but afterlife was _suffocating_ her, the space around wasn’t jelly anymore, it was _warm_ , but it still wasn't jelly, _and she was fucking suffocating_. Then afterlife seemed too real because now something was touching her fucking head and god damnit she was thinking this wasn't after life after all. Not a beat later, there was _light_ , and she might’ve thought she was in heaven if not for something screaming—

**‘It’s a girl!’**

And suddenly, even when Sakura was suffocating two minutes ago, even when her mouth was involuntarily gaping while producing sounds that made her throat itch, even when her blur sight was providing a vague picture of blurs of green and white, even _then_ she understood. She understood that she was _reborn_ , and not in her warm jello of afterlife. 

*

Now, Sakura was _fine_ with rebirth. It wouldn't necessarily be her first choice, but it wasn't the worst one either.

But after three days into entering this exceedingly unfamiliar world, she was changing her stance on it being ‘ _not the worst one_ ’ 

And the first reason on her mind changing? 

Her satanic mother, obviously. The woman was a fucking menace, and her list of bad traits was only starting out. 

Sakura loved her name, she really did, and didn't necessarily think her name would be the same in this world either. What she _wasn't_ expecting was to be named " _Minikui'_ , Watanabe Minikui. 

Her mother named her name _ugly_ and she couldn't stop her annoying tear ducts from bursting at that revelation while her devil mother seemed to be laughing at the birth certificate. Heck even the nurses appeared sympathetic for her, but her mother? She cackled like a fucking witch. 

That was only the start of her hell. Soon after the discharge Sakura experienced _real_ hell. And that was saying something for someone who had been through a _war_. 

It was hunger. _Baby hunger._

She was a medic-nin in her previous life, maternal care and baby care was knowledge she was immensely familiar with. Newborns were _supposed_ to be fed every two-three hours, and Sakura was being fed every time she cried till her voice turned hoarse. Her hygiene was shit with her nappy being changed not-so frequently and Sakura could _recall_ the amount of time she swimmed in her vomit. 

Her mother was negligent and irresponsible and probably didn't want her due to the amount of times she had said that to Sakura’s face. 

It was heartbreaking that her mother didn't _want_ her. 

No, _despised_ her. And when she was in her smelly cot, staring at the chipping ceiling while pretending her stomach wasn't eating itself, she wondered if that’s how Naruto felt too. Orphaned, hated by the whole village for something he couldn't control, abused, bullied— even by herself to some extent. 

_She should’ve been nicer to Naruto._

But she couldn't _possibly_ compare her hurt to Naruto’s. This was leagues apart. She was hurt only by her mother, Naruto was hurt by strangers all alike. 

Her eyes heavied, then arms slipped from her empty belly to the yellowed bedsheet of the cot. _Naruto’s pretty strong_ was what crossed her mind before she lost consciousness. 

*

She woke up to lights this time. It smelt much cleaner too, and this was _definitely_ not her cot.

Soon after her eyes focused on a blue haired nurse and Sakura had a vague idea on why she was here again. 

“— this is _ridiculous_! You can’t just _assume_ I’m neglecting my own child, is it _my_ fault she _refuses_ to drink from me?!” her mother’s grating voice made it to her ears. 

“Watanabe-san, your child isn't _only_ diagnosed with malnutrition, she is suffering from a severe infection that may have cost her life if you had brought her any later. Do you seriously want me to believe that you _didn't_ notice such a prominent change in your daughter’s health?” another voice made it into her ear and Sakura would’ve laughed if not for the sluggishness she was experiencing. “And if your daughter _was_ refusing to drink milk, you should’ve brought her in sooner, she’s practically bones, Watanabe-san, do you expect me to believe this _isn't_ the cause of neglect?” 

“You.. you, is this how you speak to the people paying you?!” her mother’s rabid voice echoed, “I’m a teenage mother for god sake! What do you _want_ me to do when my daughter stops sucking milk?! Heck even _I_ feel like not eating at times, why can’t a baby feel the same? I didn't think she’d be burning up like that when… when…” and sobs echoed wherever she was, stabbing into her sensitive ears.

Sakura couldn't help but ponder whether this doctor would believe such a stupid reason. 

Evidently, he _did_. Because the next day she was nestled in her mother’s arms, suckling milk without her imp of a mother screeching about how her breasts were going to resemble prunes or unstable threats like she was going to flush her down the toilet one of these days because of how shittily odored she was. (and who’s fucking fault was that?) Though Sakura had a hunch that the sole reason her deranged mother with a clogged brain wasn't verbally abusing her was because there was a nurse in the room right next to her mother, teaching the ‘correct’ ways to hold a child while her mother reciprocated in way that nearly made her vomit the precious nutrients in her stomach. 

Either ways, her life was ions better than when she was stuck in that filthy cot. Her mother wasn't nearly around as much because of her ‘job’ and the nurses were providing her with the she-devil’s pumped milk every two hours. She was bathed on a daily basis, cleaned when she shat. And for the first time ever, _saw_ her reflection when the blue haired nurse took her bathing. Normally, she was bathed in the room with heater on full swing, but that day the nurse filled a huge tub of water in the bathroom and bathed her there. 

One thing was sure though, she didn't resemble her Beelzebub mother in the _least_. Her mother had mousy brown hair, gold shimmering eyes and mole under her right eye, her smile was pretty when she wasn't actively trying to patronise her only child, and her lips were brown, probably from all the smoking she did. Her ivory complexion was the only trait Sakura could match with, but everything else was practically non-existent. The charcoal hair, green eyes, it made Sakura consider, _what part of her was ugly enough to be named ugly?!_

Then again, her mother was one petty bitch. 

*

Chakra was weird in this world. And that was something she caught on as soon as she touched her should’ve-been-named-Lucifer mother, the nurse, the doctor checking her on her vitals and the little boy who found babies adorable and wanted to cuddle them and it just so happened that Sakura was being transferred to her room right after a blood test. 

Her mother’s chakra was focused in the layer of her skin, the nurse had a good concentration of it near her brain, the doctor’s chakra was _purple_ and volatile and the boy had the most miniscule accumulation of chakra in the core where chakra _usually_ resided. 

And as if the distribution of chakra wasn't peculiar enough, the people in this world who she had by far, actually _saw_ with her own two not-so ugly eyes, were bizarre too. Some people had _horns_ , others had _wings_ , and she had positively shit herself when the lion headed nurse admittedly _spoke_ , a range of people didn't have normal skin color, a minority of them essentially didn't even _appear_ human; it seemed like all of them were high on Orichimaru's curse seal, but they _weren't_. 

The curse seal standardly stood out on the neck and she had spotted none so far. Then there was also the other telling symptom she had gouged out from the people who she had had contact with so far; their chakra was far from sinister. 

They had unique abilities too. The doctor’s assistance nurse who she _unfortunately_ couldn't touch was sprouting rattles from her palms, waving to distract the pain Sakura barely felt. Another guy in the lounge performed a neat fire jutsu without any hand signs to entertain the surrounding kids before a nurse started scolding him about _‘illegal quirk usage’_. And that’s when she figured out that unique abilities were called _quirks_ and _everyone_ had them. 

Though her excitement at that discovery was short-lived when the blue haired nurse whom everyone referred to her as Kayano-chan brought her back to her room and started relaying information she didn't want to hear. 

“You’ll be going home soon, Mini-chan.” and Sakura felt bile rise her throat, unconsciously snuggling into the nurse and producing something which could resemble a whimper. “Oh dear, are you feeling sick again?” the nurse initiated to smooth over back and she felt herself relax considerably despite her impending doom. “Your okaa-san came in last night when you were sleeping, she seemed exhausted.” Sakura wanted to flip the finger, she wouldn't care if the woman went ahead and died in a ditch. “Asked about how you were doing while feeding you, it was quite endearing to see.” Kayano gushed and Sakura wanted to _scream_ , but she was more mature than that. 

When Kayano hummed gently while placing Sakura in her cot and dimmed the lights before leaving, Sakura had an astronomical urge to crawl out the cot and run the fuck away. But she chose against doing something that contradicted her current limbs, she chose to meditate and get her not-so-anymore mediocre chakra pool to deepen. 

It was the most she could right now to get out her irresponsible shit of a mother’s clutches. 

*

Sakura was astounded. Fucking bamboozled if she was really being honest. And it wasn't the kind of surprise people had at discovering that they had a secret birthday party planned. But it was the kind where she found out that Naruto was the fourth hokage’s _son_ , Sasuke’s manical brother was _hot as fuck_ , and Kakashi was also hot as the Kurama’s scorching chakra— the point _was_ , if it was the previous her with her previous body, she’d be screeching for the world to hear. 

“What? You surprised? I’m a pretty nice mama, aren't I?” her mother’s eerily cheerful voice resounded the car. “Don’t worry, mush-face, I’m certain he’s your papa. Your mama has near perfect memory, you know? Even if I’m a highschool dropout, I used to come at the top of my class!” and a laugh ringed inside the car, nastily nice sounding despite Sakura wanting to believe otherwise. 

“I even got you a new blanky to commemorate our farewell.” she continued to speak, and Sakura continued to stare at the woman, wondering which loony-bin she escaped from to do _this_. To quite literally put her in a fucking basket and to toss her to her father— wouldn't an _orphanage_ be better choice? Hmm? Wasn't that idea fucking delectable? 

“Your shirt might be a little stained, but that’s the only one I washed. You don't have to worry though, mush-face, your papa’s quite rich. I think.” she thinks— oh god, she just might cry at this rate. “I mean he was a hero-in-training from that prestigious school so he should earn something, right? And his apartment’s in a pretty cool place in Mustafa, don’t worry kiddo, he was a huge softy when I met him.” yes and that was supposed to be reassuring, wasn’t it? And the fact that this demoness in human skin kept saying ‘ _don't worry’_ was already a valid to reason to scream bloody-fucking-mary. And the fuck was hero-in-training? Was that the ninja academy here?

Then the car came to an abrupt halt and Sakura was close to throwing hands at the pure bliss displayed on her imp of a mother’s face.

Her mother exited first, then opened the passenger seat to haul out the basket she was residing in with _one hand_ without bothering to support the bottom— yes, who’d care if her hand slipped, or the damn handle broke, or if Sakura’s head hit the inviting pavement and died, right?— Sakura experienced swaying, and she might have dismissed that motion for casual swaying if not for the slight nudge in her head indicating that there was _genjutsu_ in place.

Her gaze peered over at her mother, but her mother was nowhere in sight. And for the first time since coming to this world, she realised that her mother might have a brain in that head after all.

Her mother’s ‘quirk’ was evidently _invisibility_. How convenient for this very endeavor. By the looks of it, the basket she was holding and Sakura herself was affected by this too, hence, the people on the sidewalk going about their day without so much of glance at her. 

Slight tremors rumbled as her mother climbed a set of stairs, her breathing laboured and clearly tired from the way she was hauling the basket with two hands whole now. Then Sakura produced an involuntary whimper when her mother placed— _dropped_ the basket in the front where she presumed to be her supposed father’s door. 

Her mother’s evil gold eyes came into view once more, practically incandescent with a smile tugging all the way till her forehead. “You alright there mush-face? Sorry for the harsh landing.” Sakura would’ve reeled from the oncoming touch if she could, but she _couldn't,_ so her mother was ruffling her precious black hair, “I guess this is goodbye. Behave for your papa, alright? No crying too much either, that shits annoying as fuck—” _this utter shit of a woman_ — “Can’t say I’ll miss you though, but I’m sorry for the nasty name I gave you, that was payback for the pain you put me through— what? Don’t glare at me like that, have _you_ ever tried pushing a child out your body? No? Didn't think so.” this goodbye speech was hardly necessary, what the fuck was her mother playing at? “Your papa’s going to rename you though, so don’t worry about that too much, alright?” and then Sakura really _did_ squeak out of pure indignation when the devil incarnate put her unstable melanin containing muscles and tissues commonly referred to as _lips_ on Sakura’s just-started fat gaining cheeks. 

“What? You’re disgusted by your own mama’s kiss?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at Sakura. 

Sakura hoped she was wearing her most discontent face ever. 

Evidently, her demented mother thought otherwise. “Aw, you’re sad about me goin’, is that it?” 

_God_ this woman was taking idiocracy to new levels. 

“Sorry hun, can’t bother taking care of you. Too much work for me to be honest, but I have _awesome_ tits because of you, but that’s about the only plus sign from having you, everything else was shit.” and then the human devil trotted away, waving a one last goodbye and initiating her invisibility once more. 

For the longest time after that, Sakura stared at the not-so chipped ceiling, wondering what type of person her _father_ would be. She didn't want to take anything that woman gave her at face value, but it wasn't like she had any other source of information. And if her father had supposedly graduated from being a hero-in-training, whatever the fuck that was supposed to be, and was a much _nicer_ person than her mother, then that was supposed to be better, right? 

….Right?...

Yeah, she wouldn't count on it. Whatever happened, she was going to fend for herself as soon as she could start walking— of course, that was _assuming_ she’d be alive by that time. 

*

Sakura didn't know when she dozed off, but when she woke up, the ceiling had changed. Or more like the ceiling was still _white_ , but that warm lighted bulb shaped in a bizarre octagon certainly wasn't there. Then there were footsteps echoing and she had a vague idea on where she was. 

A head appeared soon after, grey eyes observing her critically, shaggy black hair brushing against his unshaved face.

A hobo. Her father was a hobo.

A hobo who evidently had a home. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

“Don't cry.” he said. And Sakura was tempted to cry just to spite him. Why shouldn't she cry? After all the bullshit she was dragged through after entering this world, she had the _right_ to cry. _In fact,_ she didn't cry _enough_ — she should raise hell for being treated this way. 

But she held in, shoved it to the depths of her gut, she had to figure out what kind of person this father of hers was before doing anything. And it was blaringly clear at the way he kept staring at her that he was confused as shit. 

A knock echoed soon after his statement of ordering her not to cry. 

“What’s up with your face, Sho?” well, she’d agree with that, he should really shave if he didn't want to be mistaken for a thirty-four year old man experiencing a midlife crisis. Though something in those few minutes of purely staring at each other told her that he wasn't one to care about such mundane things. 

“What emergency could you _possibly_ have that we had to meet before Friday?” oh? She was considered an emergency? How sweet. In the Watanabe residence, she was considered the last priority. What a fucking upgrade.

“Some woman left a baby outside my door and I have no idea on what to do with it.” 

How about taking care of her for a change? Didn’t that just sound _completely_ natural? _To take care of the child you fucking dodo heads procreated_ , wow, what a confusing thought. He should just go on a self-discovering journey to find out his purpose in life, maybe somewhere along the way, he’d get the gist of what taking _responsibility_ meant. At least one of the two lovebirds should know, right? Since the female love bird had no comprehension of that specific word, or any other word that was related to _human compassion_ for that matter. 

She could cry right about now. 

A pair of dark eyes peeked at her and she blinked. A finger prodded Sakura’s fisted hands and Sakura executed the exact same routine for whenever she touched someone; she followed their chakra pathways. 

To her slight bewilderment, this woman seemed to have the same lining of chakra as her mother did, except her epidermis was brimming with a more higher concentration than her mothers did and Sakura pondered as to whether this woman had an invisibility ‘quirk’ too. 

“— _Dear_ _Shouta, I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking— holy cow_ — Sho, what the fuck am I reading?!” 

Those words made her concentration sloppy and Sakura _didn’t_ reel at the eloquence executed by her mother, but she certainly felt gravity tilt before a grating shriek entered her ears. Next thing she knew she was being scooped by her father and the woman was crouching on the ground, securing a basket which didn't hold her.

Nice.

*

Sakura could affirm one thing; her father’s friends were the most sensible people she had met ever since coming into this world. 

Sakura had believed at one point that this man _might_ not even be her father, but after hearing stories from both sides, she decided that this ‘Shouta’ dude might actually be the real deal. They certainly had the same hair, didn't they?— well, not only _that_ but her mother’s version of the story she recited during the lovely car ride they had checked out too, so there was that. 

And the little speech the blonde guy named Hizashi gave? Spectacular. His conclusion left to be desired. It was irresponsible of them bringing her into this world in the first place, she’d have liked to _very much_ just die in peace. But _that_ didn't happen and now she was suffering the astronomical repercussions by being used as a ball to play _toss_. If her parents weren’t capable of looking after her, that was fine, _sort of,_ _focal point was_ , what Sakura needed was nurturing till she was old enough to walk and talk, and getting adopted seemed absolutely delectable. 

It was even better than being hauled off to an orphanage. 

So obviously, it didn't peeve Sakura that her father had answered ‘ _no_ ’ to the capability question due the nature of the answer being so glaringly transparent. 

Though when her father had left the house sometime after that, she’d admit that his smell of fabric softener was more comforting than the Kayama woman’s overly sweet perfume. 

*

Sakura was still a seventeen year old teenager at heart, so the prospect of getting her diaper changed by a male was daunting— no, just plain _embarrassing._

She wondered whether this was punishment for killing herself. 

It must be. It _really_ must be. 

Her father and his friends were nice people. Like Kayano the nurse and the doctor with volatile purple chakra, they were acceptable people. They didn't starve her till she cried, but gave her a bottle when she made the right face. They changed her diapers without waiting for hours to do so, Kayama even cleaned the short spurt of vomit Sakura involuntarily spat out on her unusually thin dress without letting her hear a thousand words of complaints. And Hizashi’s comfortable hold on her while feeding her a bottle and the consistent strings of insults he hurled out his mouth for her mother was music to her ears. 

While she suckled on a nice, warm bottle given to her, Sakura wondered if her father had a doujutsu. He had an unusually dense amount of chakra circulating around his eyes, not to mention how dry and red they appeared. Hizashi’s chakra density was placed in his throat and Sakura could figure out what that meant already. 

This world had an interesting dynamic around chakra. And being the absolute nerd she was, it intrigued her, obviously. So one of the first things she did was get a handle of her own chakra workings, tugging it from her core and coursing it through her nerves and veins to test just _how well_ she could articulate it. She’d admit the pride she felt when she got the hang of it the first few tries, chakra control was her best feat after all, and one of the fundamentals a ninja worked around. 

Admittedly, trying the body scan was a little tricky since, well, she was a _baby_. And Sakura didn't want to exhaust herself by trying the mystic palm, despite that, it didn't stop her from gathering chakra to her forehead, if she could get a head start on the byakugou seal, then she’d snatch it without hesitation. Since being a baby meant she had all the free time in the world, she spent a good amount of time mediating— and more often than not, slumbered away while trying to do so. 

That night, when Hizashi returned to his own home before Kayama was tossed over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, Sakura was carried back to her father's room and placed in the weirdly barricaded bed. Sakura didn't think he slept with all the staring she felt aimed at her, though clad in her new green onesie and wrapped in a her cat eared blanket, she dozed off pretty soon. 

*

Aizawa Asuka. 

Aizawa Asuka. 

Aizawa Asuka. 

She wasn't Haruno Sakura since she died, named the horrific name Watanabe Minikui at the get-go. _Now_ she was Aizawa Asuka. 

She fucking loved her new name. _Aizawa Asuka_. 

Suffice to say, her initial dislike for him had tilted to neutral. He named the first thing that popped into his head and named her _Asuka._ That was a beautiful name. Then again, anything that wasn't _Minikui_ which literally translated to ugly was a beautiful name. 

Later her father heaved her around in the carrier, got her second shots of vaccines, and ended up being reprimanded for her lacking health, which honestly wasn't _his_ fault. She had only recovered from the malnutrition and infection she suffered two days back, and he didn't have any way of knowing that. Though he _did_ grumble about why she was so light when a two month old child should on average weigh over five kilograms — _which_ came as a surprise to her, but she quickly caught on that he had ‘searched it up’ on the metal box the people of this world generally used. What a fantastic invention.

When they later exited the hospital, Sakura— _Asuka_ got to sight see. And she didn't know sightseeing could be this much fun, there was _so much_ to observe and absorb from this new world; the ground which wasn't covered with sand or mud, the huge buildings that appeared like a _severely_ modified versions of the hokage tower, the abundance of people, the intersection next to an odd metal barricade which had more metal boxes that zoomed from one side to the other, most of which where she had to force chakra into her eyes to see because baby eyes were _terribly_ out of focus. 

All of a sudden, Sakura— Asuka spotted her own kind. A man clad in shinobi shozoku underneath navy blue robes, a belt that may or maynot have his weapons supporting behind his back, a gold mask, a fashionable scarf, either way, this dude reminded her of _home,_ so a laugh bubbled up her throat without even meaning to. And the oncoming laugh didn't stop, neither did her excited hands, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. 

And suddenly, Sa— Asuka liked her father because he was walking up to the ninja man who screamed home, calling him something along the lines of _Shinya,_ but Asuka was too hyped, too deep in her jublinace that she grabbed the scarf and tugged it. 

“Your imouto?” 

She wouldn't have cared if her father agreed. 

“Daughter, actually.” 

Or so she thought. 

Something warm bloomed in her chest. Something she hadn't had the liberty of experiencing ever since being quite _literally_ shoved into this world. _Daughter._ When was the last time she heard that? And with such confidence too. _Daughter._ As if he was _proud_ of having her. _Daughter_. All her mother referred to her as _‘mush-face’_ or _‘hun’_ or something incredibly insulting and unfitting to call a child, it was never even by the horrific name she herself graced Sa— Asuka with either. 

_My daughter_. A phrase her mother hadn't ever used, 

Or maybe she was reading too deep into it. 

“A cute daughter you have there, Aizawa.” damn right she was. 

“Well, I won’t be taking too much of your time since you're on patrol, but can you take a picture with her? She seems to like you. Or your costume. Whichever, really.” and Asuka felt herself being pulled out the carrier, away from the warmth her father provided and to the man she symbolised as home. “Watch out for the head.” Asuka’s hand made contact with a gloved one, and for once, she didn't send a stream of chakra to analyze the nature of their chakra, instead, she let herself relax, staring at the modified metal box which could evidently take real time pictures too. 

*

A beach. They didn't have such views in Konoha, the most she witnessed of the sea was in the land of Waves, and even then, she didn't have much time to appreciate the beauty of it due to obvious threat of Zabuza the demon-of-something she didn't recall and Haku the androgynous beauty attempting to murder their client. 

So there she sat, tucked into her father’s arm, observing the sea glimmering with the setting sun. It was ethereal. Sunsets always were. 

“You don't seem like a normal baby.” 

Sa— Asuka would snort if she could, but she couldn't, so she managed a smile. Of course she wasn't a normal baby. Normal babies didn't have memories of their past life. Normal babies didn't think of the amniotic fluid as a warm jello. Normal babies didn't curse their mother till kingdom come. Normal babies didn't do a plethora of things she did. 

“Look, _Asuka,_ I know you won’t remember or process anything I’m going to say, but this’ll probably be the only time I can spend time with you before you're sent to a ‘better’ home.” she blinked, he sure said the word ‘better’ home like it was sour milk. Head unconsciously lolling to one side, S— Asuka observed his tired face, but before she slipped off completely, his warm hands rested on her hair. “I’m eighteen. And turning nineteen this year. And as harsh as this sounds, you were a mistake.” he caressed her hair as if he didn't call her existence a mistake, and she didn't mind because it was true. S— Asuka was never supposed to be here. Asuka was supposed to be dead; either in hell or purgatory or wherever the hell she was supposed to belong. 

A smile tugged at her father’s lips; it wasn't an amused one. “But still, I’d like to apologize. You didn't ask to be born, and you didn't have a choice in getting such a devilishly irresponsible _mama_ or a severely underqualified _papa_.” he traced the lining of her brows and brushed the hair on her forehead with his thumb, and she felt the same warmth she experienced when he called her _my daughter._ “I’m sorry, Asuka. I’m sorry that you have terrible parents. But you deserve better, and that’s exactly why we’re putting you up for adoption.”

An apology. It wasn’t like the sympathetic apology Asuka received from the nurse when her mother named her _‘Minikui’_. It wasn't like the pained apology she got from the Kayano when the older woman hugged her shaking body and whispered words of comfort. It wasn’t like her mother’s apology that held no real feelings behind it when she sauntered off, leaving her at her father’s doorstep; abandoning her at the only two months. 

This apology was _different_ , this apology from her father was because he somehow _understood_ that she didn't _want_ to be here, although both of them had extremely contrasting reasons for it, but still, he apologized for it. He said sorry on behalf of her _mother_ whom she’d never forgive. Sorry to _his_ incompetence, one which, as shallow as she was going to sound, didn't mind forgiving. 

He was _late_ , but he didn't neglect her, didn't shy away from learning about basic baby knowledge, didn't hesitate to clean her shit despite her feeling incredibly uncomfortable while doing so. And the winning point of all, _her name_. 

He gave her her name and that’d earn him plenty of brownie points. 

“Don't worry about being hauled off to another dump. I’ll make sure to review the list of guardians myself. It’s the least I could do for leaving you with your _mama_ for two months.” Asuka’s fingers clamped around the side of her soon-to-be not father’s palm and he smiled amusedly. It was her way of saying _I like you_ , even if he probably didn't get her meaning.

He showed her kindness, kindness which was different coming from a _parent_ than a stranger. Kindness which was foreign when she was in her mother’s residence, stuck in her filthy cot and wondering how she was going to manage choking out her cry of hunger when her throat was sore to the point of blood. And suddenly, the fuzziness of her chest intensified, the need to relay her words heightened and her vision blurred. 

“— shit are you going to cry?” 

_She wasn't crying._ Then he started mumbling sorry’s for shit knows what reason.

And the string _snapped_ when he pulled his hand away from her and Asuka’s dam _opened_. _All the negativity. All the bitterness. All the lingering feeling from the abuse_. _Everything_ poured out and she couldn't stop the loud screech from erupting. Her fist secured on her father’s shirt, burying into his side, _trying_ to muffle her cry.

She felt him tug her, but Asuka was unrelenting in her previous life, she wasn't any different now, couldn't he just let this be an endearing moment? Why didn't he understand that she wasn't crying because she was _sad—_ these were happy tears! 

“Asuka, please stop crying… _papa_ .. will do anything just stop crying, _please_.” 

She _wanted_ to convey that baby emotions didn't work like that, but what stumbled out was another loud scream and the next thing she knew someone was trying to tug her off her father and she felt _rabid_. Sniffing furiously, she peered at the lady who had tried to snatch from her father, and almost instantly regretted it at the good-natured smile the old lady was gracing her with. 

There was movement for a while as Asuka stared off into the beach, her crying had long ceased, but her breathing was still unstable. Asuka should’ve been embarrassed at the venture of crying at this point, but she couldn't bring herself to care. 

“That’s one heck of a scare you gave me there...” she heard her father murmur, simultaneously wiping off the tears and snot from her face. 

Yeah, well, it wasn't planned. 

When his hands hovered over her nose for the second time, Asuka grabbed his hand with all the baby strength she had and crushed it against her cheek. 

It was an attempted hug from her. One last goodbye before their departure. 

Asuka witnessed a smile. _A genuine smile_ , and she had an inkling that he didn't do that alot. 

*

On a Thursday evening, Asuka let herself obediently slip into the light grey onesie her father was dressing her in while he muttered something about _damn Hiyashi’s and their bad timing_ , and his incoherent grumbles wouldn't have been _odd_ if he hadn't resembled a _whole new man_. 

No beard, smooth, non-oily face, hair pulled back to show his somewhat predictable handsome face, hell he even _smelt_ different. His clothes were odd too, not his usual black get-up; a crisp white shirt tucked into black slacks. Both of which Asuka witnessed him ironing furiously, and he also wore something called a _tie_ , it seemed sort of like a leash, but she didn't think he’d let anyone pull him around. 

Two months into her father’s humble abode, and Asuka wasn't sure she was going to get adopted. Kayama and Hizashi seemed adamant on that fact, and Asuka was starting to believe it too. 

Either way, she didn't think she’d mind. 

She fisted the back of his shirt on impulse when he picked her up from the bed, then watched him silently as he grabbed her readied baby bag with one hand and stuffed a file under his armpit in the same hand. “I have the midnight shift tonight, so behave at the night care, alright?” 

Asuka regarded him with a bored gaze, how many times did he have to remind her to behave? She was mentally _seventeen_ damnit!

“Don't stare at me like that.” her probably-continue-going-to-be father said, “I’ve heard of all the mischief you get up into.” Asuka attempted a scowl which resembled more to a pout and her father shook his head amusedly, closing the apartment door behind him. 

Asuka bathed in the coos of admiration and awe sent her way while her father shifted uneasily. And that was understandable, this was vastly different from the usual reaction she got when she ventured out with her father, mostly, it was just old ladies waving at her or mother’s crooning at how much of an _adorable_ daughter her father had. Today, much younger women were actually hitting on her father and even slithered their hands up to her precious cheeks to squeeze them, to which she _obviously_ didn't stand for and swatted them with her four month old hands. 

“Sorry, she’s a bit cranky today.” her father apologized to the third woman who tried to do so, and she even played the part by inflating her cheeks and reddening her face. The Hobo look on her father was much better than _this_. Whatever _this_ was. 

Who was he even trying to impress? 

Later when the Night Care came into view, Asuka spotted Yumena greeting the parents, and almost chortled at her questioning whether they were new customers while wearing the most befuddled face, switching her gaze between a familiar baby and an unfamiliar parent. 

“ _No way,_ _you’re_ Shota-kun?” Yumena asked, confirming what she saw.

“ _Hohohoho_ ,” Sasaki Akane, another night care worker who was just leaving the establishment after her shift guffawed, “you sure clean up good, Shouta-kun!” Asuka found her peculiar laugh more entertaining. 

“What’s all the fuss? Yumena, you’re needed at the play area, Chitose-chan vomited all over the mat and Bunko-kun needs help with— _holy diapers_ ,” Utano stepped out, eyes taking in the rare sight. Though she recovered quick enough, “damn Shouta-kun, ya got a date or somethin’?” 

Her father appeared jaded, wordlessly handing over the baby bag to Yumena and herself to Utano. “I’ll come by in the morning.” he stated simply. And she watched him almost trip over his feet when Utano wolf whistled and couldn't stop the rising laughter when Akane started her outlandish laughter once more. 

Yumeno carried her inside, still cackling at the scene of her typically unruffled father tripping over his feet, "Your otousan's a funny one." she said, placing her down on the barricaded side of the common area. 

Asuka _hated_ the barricade. It prevented her from utilizing her body scans because all kids on the barricaded side were mindless, saliva slobbering babies who all had the same chakra core. She wanted to venture over to the big kids side to test out the kids that frequently got scolded for using their 'quirks'. 

She _wanted_ to get a better grasp on this world, and the only place she could do that was _here_ , where there were plenty of people she could come into contact with. The caretakers here were particularly fascinating. Yumena for example, was brimming with chakra at her fingers, Utano had a crazy amount stuffed up her brain and nowhere else. As for Akane with the funny laugh, Asuka didn't need to run a scan to know that she was animal type, the woman had _bunny ears_ for show. Bunko, the only male caretaker of this establishment, had saffron tinted chakra. And there were a few more care takers that Asuka had seen and never had the opportunity to touch because they focused more on the bigger kids.

Though that didn't mean Asuka _didn't_ try to get in proximity with them. 

She _may_ have once or twice used her growing physique to climb over the barrier, which wasn't spectacularly _hard_ when there was some kid named Izuku being a total stepping stone for her when she needed a lift. All the kid did was stay in his corner and built up stacks of blocks, and Asuka wouldn't noticed him if he hadn't happened to be _near_ the barricade— which he _was—_ so she took full advantage of that by latching onto the bars of the accursed barricade and supporting her wobbly feet at the other kid shoulder, whom by her fifth attempt had already caught onto what she was trying to do and fully supported her. 

But that was all _yesterday_. 

She wouldn't attempt another escapade so soon. Not when Utano had peeked over the barricaded corner for the sixth time since she had been dropped here. 

Inspections had to wait till she was off the radar. Maybe she’ll wait a week before attempting another one. For now, she’d join Izuku on his boring venture of building blocks.

Then as she turned to strenuously crawl towards her helpful friend, someone was tugging at her perfectly brushed twin tails and Asuka’s attention snapped to a red haired kid who had a square for a nose— how the hell did he breathe?

No kid on the barricaded side spoke fluently, but Asuka knew what this meant. 

It meant _war._

*

There was something comforting about sleeping without being disturbed. No missions, no hospital shifts, no _war_ , no nothing that was in immediate need of attention. So when she woke up to that horrendous sound of a sliding, moaning machine called ‘vacuum’ that evidently worked better than a standard broom, Asuka felt well rested. 

Her sluggish head was against her father’s shoulder when Hizashi's usual voice entered her ears, “— dude! How hard is it for you to open a damn can?! You literally pull _this_ part!”

“I know how to open a damn can, you damn cockatoo!” and it obviously made sense that Kayama was here too. This trio was like every other konoha eleven genin group excluding team seven; they were practically inseparable.

“YEs, because stabbing the wrong side with a fucking butter knife is the way to go!” 

“You know I can’t cook shit!” 

“Damn right you can’t.” her father interrupted, evidently having enough, “So feed Asuka instead.” 

Asuka felt the woman’s boob before anything else. And why wouldn't she? She was flat-chested before, a big-breasted woman naturally rose jealousy from her. Though she wouldn't say that that didn't work out for her before. When Asuka was Sakura, she had advantage over Tsunade because she was much lighter, hence the flat-chest was more than accommodating in her endeavor of developing into a better shinobi. _In conclusion_ , flat-chest was good. Sort of.

People always wanted what they didn't have. Sakura was no different, and Asuka knew Asuka wouldn't be any different either. 

“Come ‘suka-chan, let’s get some food into you~” Kayama sang, shaking the bottle while rubbing her head against Asuka’s like a cat. Kayama always did that. 

When the teat met her lips, Kayama went into her usual streak of retelling her awesome hero adventures. “I got something special for today,” she grinned, her dark eyes glimmering, “so, I was doing my usual patrol near the mall, and since I’m so captivating, I had this teenage boy come up to me for an autograph— now _normally_ I’m not one for clout—”

“ _Bullshit_. Your merch is the best selling among the female heroes, how _dare_ you lie to a baby?” Hizashi enunciated tauntingly. 

Then the story deviated into a full blown argument with Hizashi and Asuka sucked on the bottle without a care. 

Her father was a hero. So was Hizashi and Kayama. Hero’s were much like ninja’s, she figured. They worked for the well-being of their country, protected the civilians, did patrols, hunted down the bad guys (like in the Bingo book); it was basically the same thing with different titles, abilities and uniforms. 

She found Kayama’s costume particularly confusing for the first month of her arrival here, but after Kayama had retold a story of saving a five-year girl from a hostage situation by tearing her sleeves, Asuka somewhat understood what her special ability entailed; her skin emitted sleeping gas, it seemed, and the costume was solely for matching her personality more than her quirk because Kayama didn't need to tear clothes a week ago to put a rabid Hizashi to sleep right after she had finished inhaling the box of sweet and sour fried chicken he bought. 

Hizashi’s quirk and costume somehow wasn't confusing at all. His personality and ability went hand in hand. Though she seriously questioned that styled hair of his a lot. 

Both Kayama and Hizashi were also _Daylight_ heroes, and that term wasn't hard to decipher when her father never once went outside with his array of strange ropes during the day. And she would’ve thought that the other term would be _Nightlight_ heroes, or _Moon- rising_ heroes, or _Evening_ heroes, but Underground heroes worked well too. 

Asuka pretty soon unriddled the doujutsu her father had, and she didn't need a great deal of effort or eavesdropping to fill in the blanks when he was using it on Hizashi’s ascending voice right now. He used it on Hizashi a boatload of times.

An ability to nullify other abilities was pretty awesome, but the drawbacks from it was equally draining. It was the same for others too. Her father had red, dry eyes, which Asuka knew wasn't only dedicated from his quirk. Hizashi was partially deaf, which was also given considering how blaringly _loud_ he was. Kayama had to prioritize her personal hygiene over anything or it appeared her quirk lost it’s effectiveness. And all those were prized information she gained with little to no effort whatsoever. People _really_ tended to let their guard down in front of babies. 

Before she knew it, Kayama was pulling out the empty bottle she had in her hands with an annoyed huff and strutted over to the kitchen with the same bottle, not-so accidentally stepping on Hizashi’s foot on the way out. And Hizashi only squawked disgruntledly, avoiding his limbs from flapping at Kayama solely because— “Your lucky ‘suka-chan’s with you!” 

Two minutes after Kayama was stuffing her into a comfy bouncer seat so that the ‘adults’ could eat. Two seconds later there was a knock on the door. One second later her father appeared feral. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Nice to you you still don't have manners.” 

Asuka didn't have to touch him to know that his chakra levels were spiking. Even now, his hair tips were doing the talking, and incensed grey eyes were narrowed to the blonde hair, blue eyed woman who was skimming past him. 

“So _this_ is where you were living?” the woman spoke. 

Her natural instinct for this woman was dislike. 

“How did you find this place?” contempt blared through his tone and Asuka wondered what the woman in question could’ve done to evoke such wrath. 

Then something clicked when her father called her ‘kaa-san’ and suddenly, the situation appeared alarmingly clear. 

One thing was for sure, her grandma was a real piece of work. What the hell did her _concern_ mean when she didn't even notice such a _supposedly_ crucial part of her life move out the _same house_ they lived in? That was like her mother telling the doctor that a baby _might_ stop wanting to eat just because he/she might not feel like it and the moronic doctor in question inherently _believing_ the obvious nonsense of a lie. 

“Shouta!”

“You should leave. I don't need your money anymore, kaa-san.” 

“I’m your Kaa-san!” 

It was similar, and then it _wasn't_ similar. It was like seeing little glimpses of her _own_ mother. But her mother had evil gold eyes and her grandmother had ice blue eyes, her mother always carried herself with casual nonchalance and her grandmother carried herself with unrelenting firmness. Her mother reprimanded her for things Asuka couldn’t control, habitually abused Asuka with her snake tongue, neglected Asuka to the point of near-death— she didn't know nearly _enough_ to form an assumption on her grandmother, but negligence was blatant and screeching from the short conversion her father and grandmother were having. 

Her mother and grandmother were similar, just not appearance vise. 

_Just in the way they affected their children emotionally_. Just in negligence. Just that in the snips of abuse which wasn’t essentially _physical,_ but Asuka was sure it hurt more. Just— just in the worst ways any two mothers could be similar. 

So when Asuka’s near perfect memories started clashing and colliding and quite _literally_ flashing before her eyes, _she screamed._ She screamed for it to _go away_ , for it to _forget itself_ because that was _months ago_. She didn't even _think_ of that woman now that she was with her _papa_. She was okay now. _Perfectly fine_. She was well taken care of now, there was no need to dwell on the past— _but she couldn't fucking calm down, she couldn't_ forget _the distress, the despondency, the hurt, the_ —

“ _It’s okay, it’s okay…_ ” and her hand latched onto his shirt on instincts, wanting to complain the itching feeling in her chest almost on impulse despite refusing to admit otherwise in her obstinate brain, but all that escaped were inchorrent babbles and that only made her more agitated. “ _It’s okay, ‘suka…_ ” the light murmurs echoed in ears as familiar hands smoothed over her unruly, raven hair. “... _papa will make the bad witch go away.”_ and Asuka couldn't laugh despite that statement taking her by surprise because that was strangely consoling. 

“Who’s kid is that?” witch grandmother questioned, her wrinkles magnifying. 

When her father— papa said _‘mine’_ , a familiar warmth amplified in her chest, _nearly_ allowing her lips to wobble. It was like the day he called her _his daughter_. 

“You married without me knowing?!” the witch screamed, appearing feral. Asuka pondered if this woman had a screw loose. What kind of dumbass assumption leap was that? Her first reaction to her son having a kid was him marrying without her knowledge?!

“No. Asuka’s the product of a one-night stand.” and she couldn't stop her fist from aviating because he seriously didn't need to flex on _that_ point. Being reminded that _she_ was a mistake was irking. 

“Shouta! If you’re still mad about leaving halfway through graduation then that’s _extremely_ childish of you,” to be perfectly hypothetical, Asuka didn't think she’d even have made it to school if she was left with her psychotic mother. “Taking care of children is not—”

“First of all.” papa cut in, “I’m eighteen, kaa-san, not seventeen. Second, you’re _sorely_ mistaken if you think I’m angry about what happened at the graduation, no, _graduation_ is just the tip of the iceberg. Lastly, Asuka’s well taken care of and doesn't need your presence to make her life any better.”

Then the witch lady’s hair was hovering above her head and eyes were gleaming in silver instead of her ice blue, skin gradually turned crimson and it didn't take a genius to figure out that she was furious. “I am your _kaa-san_ and you _will_ give me the respect I deserve.”

What if she didn't deserve respect, huh? Why the fuck did she think this was _okay_? Why were all bad mothers so intent on proving that they _were_ bad mothers? Did they think _trying_ to improve themselves, _trying_ to become a better person was beneath them? Was being a decent person to everyone except their child viable? Why hadn't her mother ever used that sweetened tone she used on her phone while communicating to shit knows who on _her_ , her own child? Didn’t she even feel an _ounce_ of attachment towards her? To someone who had been living in her womb for months?—

And her rant had deviated to bitching about her own mother, which evidently seemed as if she was scolding her grandmother. 

“Why do you feel the need to interfere in my life? You’re just embarrassing yourself in front of my friends, Kaa-san, just act like you _always_ do and ignore me.” 

“Who’s her okaa-san?” 

Why’d _she_ want to know? So that they could bond over which one of them failed their child the most? 

“I don’t know. Might as well be dead for all I know.” and a giggle escaped her, strangely psyched at that aspect. 

She appeared rabid by now, “How can you _possibly_ raise a child without her okaa-san?” 

“Well, _I_ didn't have the best one either so I think my daughter will turn out just fine.” 

Her laugh intensified. 

“You disrespectful brat—” she started, hair still aviating and her fair skin tinting red, “you know what? Do what you want.” then an ugly smile stretched on her face instead, “But I’m warning you, Shouta, you’re not qualified to be a parent and that child has _no_ future.” witch grandmother jeered. 

Her papa grinned like a lunatic, “I’ll take you up on that challenge.”

And she didn't think anyone was surprised except for her papa himself. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay you guys, I did NOT expect this work to get so much encouragement, like, wHat? Thank you all for such positive feedback! I’ll try my best to update sooner, but I have college going on and y'all know how that is. 
> 
> Somehow, writing this chapter was much harder than I thought. Getting Sakura’s emotions, her transitions, the wall breaking and all of that was just💥  
> And I know that the part Shouta consoling Sakura wasn’t there in the first part, but something’s gotta be a surprise, right? Let’s be real, how many of you thought Sakura wanted to cut off the argument between Shouta and his witch mother?  
> I thought so too, but then I wanted to bring in some fresh trauma ‘cos negligence and abuse is shit and no one recovers from trauma overnight. And the girl’s been through war, so you bet I’m going to use that everywhere and anywhere I can shove it in. 
> 
> Also, I realise that Sakura’s reactions to Shouta’s mom might be really strong and biased, but that’s to be expected when she’s had a hell of an experience with her own mom. Sorry if the emotional scenes are a bit over the top, they’re hard to get through for me cos they never come out the way I want it and that just sUcks. 
> 
> List of OC’s for this chapter:  
> Nakamura Utane- night care worker  
> Sato Yumena- night care worker  
> Akane Sasaki- night care worker  
> Bunko- night care worker  
> Chitose- kid who vomited  
> Uchida Kayano- Nurse  
> Kikuchi Taigen- Doctor moron
> 
> But still, hope this chapter was a good read💛


	3. Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama VS Papa. Kayama is rabid on many occasions. Hizashi is a sweetheart (sometimes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! First things first, I don’t know aNything about police reports, I probably should’ve searched it up before writing this chapter but, well, it didn't happen. So I improvised.  
> Lots of swearing!  
> And Asuka's (Sakura's) month progression is intended and not a mistake.

On a Saturday evening after an unusually uneventful patrol, Shouta was lounging in his room, his daughter sleeping on his chest since he picked her up from the Night Care, and unable to put her down in the cot because she started whimpering every time he did so. 

Asuka whimpered a lot at night. She was clingy too. It was one of the few times she acted like a normal kid and not her usual… whatever the hell she did. Though he was seriously concerned about how often she was doing that, and it didn't help that this behavior had only _increased_ since his mother’s uninvited visit… did babies even _have_ nightmares, because Asuka sure as hell wasn't sick, and she was perfectly active in the morning. He read something about night terror and how babies didn't tend to remember the commotions they caused during the night, was this the same as that?

Shouta didn't have the liberty of thinking any longer because a frantic knock resounded, the presence behind the door glaringly obvious due to Hizashi’s signature voice shouting about something Shouta didn't care to make sense of. 

Shouta’s quirk was already active when he pulled the door open, “Stop screaming.” and the meaning was obvious enough when Hizashi saw Asuka in his hands. 

“Yeah, shit, sorry Sho,” Hizashi stammered, sliding past his friend and throwing off his boot, “but Kayama called and—” his best friend detoured to the kitchen and snagged a mug, pouring himself a cold cup of water before gulping it in one breath. 

Shouta quirked an eyebrow, closing the door behind him while readjusting his grip on Asuka. 

“ _We’ve found her._ ” Hizashi whispered/exclaimed.

“What?” 

“We’ve _found_ Asuka-chan’s okaa-san.” Hizashi confirmed, “Kayama just called me, and she said not to call you _yet_ because you might stomp down to the police station right now, but then she called me again and said to call you because she’s a second away from _murdering_ the woman and…. Sho? Dude, are you alright?” 

Shouta blinked, his stiffness not going unnoticed by Hizashi, “Come on, let’s go.” and he turned, reaching for the baby carrier he normally hung on the coat hanger, but Hizashi snatched it out of his and Shouta glared at him. 

“If you’re planning on taking a sleeping child to a rowdy police station then I _am_ going to smack you.” Hizashi said in a no nonsense tone. 

“She’s going to start crying as soon as I put her down.” Shouta countered annoyedly, tugging on the carrier Hizashi had shown no inclination of ungripping. 

Three minutes later, Shouta let Hizashi handle a fussy Asuka because the man was seconds late from going feral on him. 

Asuka’s mother, a person he didn't have an ounce of memory to count on except for the obvious traits of what happened that night. And also someone who managed to compete with his mother in terms of irresponsibility and negligence. 

No, scratch that. Asuka’s mother was unbeatable in that aspect. 

This woman had _hunted him down_ only to shove Asuka onto him. _Not_ to ask for financial aid, _not_ so they could compromise and think of a more viable solution that didn't lead to _abandonment_ , _not_ so they could talk it out and decide to put her up for adoption because they were both incapable teenagers— but then again, he didn't deem _himself_ qualified until he started putting an effort to actually be a good parent for his daughter. 

Incapability didn't mean they couldn't _learn_. 

He wasn't about to turn out like _his_ mother. He couldn't _stand_ the thought of his daughter growing up to the same indifference and afflicting environment he grew up around in. 

And If Asuka’s mother had brought up somewhere along the way that she _couldn't_ do this, she couldn't handle a child at such a young age, then they could’ve discussed that too. Because that was better than a shit stain of a letter declaring abandonment. 

“Eraserhead?” he heard his alias name being called out behind the desk. 

It was the cat officer, Tamakawa Sansa, who looked at him weirdly because evidently, he smelt weird, “Are you here for the Hinorima case? They're being moved tomorrow though, didn't Fujiwara inform you?” 

Shouta acknowledged him with a nod, “Here for something else.” he provided instead, “Which interrogation room is Midnight using?”

“uh, let me check... number four.”

Shouta grunted a thanks and trudged past the desk, taking a right in the intersecting hallway and walked past several rooms to reach his destination. Outside, he saw Kayama inhaling what seemed to be coffee while her glasses were hiked over her head like a band. He took a seat beside her instead of quenching his screaming curiosity. 

“Sho,” Kayama said, without looking at him as she swirled the content of her cup, “I don't think you’re going to like what you find.” 

“That’s an obvious deduction.” Shouta countered. 

“I’m _serious_.” Kayama retorted, this time, she focused on his ash eyes with her incensed ones, “That woman’s a _menace_. It’s a fucking _miracle_ that Asuka’s even _alive_ right now—” Kayama crushed her paper cup, indifferent to the searing liquid burning her hands and dripping on her feet, “You should read the file before doing anything.”

Shouta frowned heavily. The fuck did Kayama mean by that? But he didn't question it. Kayama was easily the most hot-headed amongst the trio, but getting her to rile up to this extent was _rare_. 

Soon, he found out why Kayama was close to blowing up.

Current Report By Imai Tozen, Leading Officer.

Assistance Received From Miyazaki Yasuko, Takeda Wakami, Pro Hero Present Mic And Pro Hero Midnight. 

_On April 1st, 2004, Watanabe Takeru was allegedly accused of illegal attainment of Aizawa Shouta’s home address and child abandonment…._

_…On 5th April 2004, the suspect was confirmed as Watanabe Takeru, who was also confirmed to be seen with Aizawa Shouta twelve months prior in an establishment called Whisper Drinks..._

_7th April 2004, located suspect's family and collected… revealed by her family members…_

_….9th March 2004, Watanabe Minikui, currently known as Aizawa Asuka was admitted to Hosu Lifecare Hospital due to an extreme case of malnutrition and pneumonia. Her condition was closely monitored for a week before deeming her out of immediate danger…._

[Conversations printed as per the recordings.]

Statement From (Sister) Watanabe Takako

_"......when highschool started, her grades took a huge drop, at first, kaa-san and tou-san said to give her space to sort herself out, they didn't want to put any pressure on her... Then she started acting strange; coming home late, bunking school, at one point, kaa-san was called to school because she had been caught smoking. *sniffs* Takeru left home that night… We filed a missing report, but everytime she was found and brought back home, she'd try to leave and tou-san got_ so _furious one night because she'd resorted to stealing from them… she hadn't ever done that before, but after that, we didn't file any missing reports. Kaa-san said it was just a_ phase _… and that Takeru would come to them when she got her head sorted out…_

_*Long pause*_

_"Then out of nowhere, two years after disappearing, Takeru showed up at our house… *sniffs* crying and… and she just looked_ terrible _. Her hair was all over the place, there were scratch marks on her arms, bruises on her face and… and she was_ heavily _pregnant. We took her to the hospital immediately. She wasn't kept there long, and kaa-san and tou-san seemed to forget everything she ever did, but when they tried asking about what happened to her, Takeru flat-out refused to speak of anything, and our parents didn't force her much after the frightening breakdown she had… they're always soft on her… maybe that's why they didn't realise…"_

_"Realise what?" [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]_

_"Her tells. *blows nose* Takeru tends to have a very noticeable tell when she lies, it's because of her quirk, actually, her skin starts glimmering in and out of invisibility, but she's gotten most of it under control… when kaa-san asked her if her unborn child's tou-san had abandoned them, she said yes, and… and I saw her nape flickering.… It was for a brief moment, but I still noticed. *clears her throat* Then tou-san went on about how Takeru should've_ aborted _the child when she had the chance to and that Takeru was young and should be in college and not preparing to mother a child at her age— Takeru started sobbing by then, mumbling something along the lines of_ 'don't say that' _and_ 'I love this child'. _*inhales sharply* The tips of hair started glitching. Kaa-san and tou-san were too busy comforting her, but I found it odd._

_*Drinks water*_

_"Takeru claimed she had a job in Hosu, it was apparently where she had been living after running away from home. I don't know_ what _she did, she was very vague about it, all we knew is that it was some publishing company. But by the time I returned from my business trip, she had managed to enamour my parents to the point where they bought her an apartment in Hosu, and even let her move out to live in the apartment with one of her friends."_

_"Were you there at the birth of the child?" [Officer Takeda Wakami]_

_*Shakes head* "Unfortunately not, neither my parents, nor I were able to make it to the birth. Tou-san had to go to overseas for business and kaa-san and I went to visit our nii-san since he lived in Yokohama, of course kaa-san was reluctant to go because Takeru was nearing birth, but Takeru convinced her to go, nii-san's wife was pregnant at that time too, though nowhere near birth. Then… then his wife got into an accident and miscarried… lots of things happened, in the end, kaa-san stayed at Yokohama for emotional support and told me to go back because Takeru had given birth three days prior to that."_

_"She named her child '_ Minikui _'. *sniffs* I didn't think a child could be named something_ so _horrendous, but… but Takeru laughed it off saying her name didn't matter… that she was giving up the child for adoption— that took me by surprise, of course, because it was the first time_ I _was hearing it, but apparently tou-san already knew and of course kaa-san didn't know. Takeru said kaa-san wouldn't be on board with that idea…*voice wobbles as sniffing intensifies* I… I couldn't visit Mini-chan as much as I wanted to because I was having a hard time at my job, but whenever I_ did _go, Takeru took the longest time to open the door and… and I didn't think it was_ odd _because Takeru was prone to be tired. She was always breastfeeding that child too, and Mini-chan was always asleep whenever I came."_

 _"Then I get a call from Takeru saying Mini-chan was hospitalised for_ pneumonia _and I rushed over, her condition was stable, fortunately, but when I talked with the nurses there it and seemed as if Mini-chan had been there for almost a_ week _*blows nose* and when I confronted Takeru about why she didn't tell me earlier, Takeru patted my back and said that she didn't want to bother me—_ and I fucking believed it." 

_"I know I wasn't the greatest obaa-san to Mini-chan, and I didn't think bonding with a child who was bound to leave would be good for me— but goddammit how could I have been so blind?!"_

_"That's right, your were blind as batshit, drown in your miser you fucking—" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]_

_"Kaya– Midnight!" [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]_

_"We can take a break if you like, Takako-san." [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]_

_"No, no, I can go on. *Sniffs* I visited the hospital a lot more after that, but I could only come during the night so Mini-chan was always asleep. Takeru was never there when I came in, but a nurse– Kayano was always with Mini-chan, she told me that Takeru would only come during the night because of her 'job', I didn't know what job she was talking about, Takeru had said that she had taken a maternity leave, so there was no reason she'd have to keep working."_

_"Then two days after the discharge, I went over to visit her with kaa-san who was dying to see Mini-chan for the longest time, and Mini-chan wasn't there…. Kaa-san was furious, of course, that Takeru had given her away so easily after such an experience… and I_ assumed _that Takeru deemed herself unworthy because she looked like she had been through hell and back….I'm sorry. I'm so,_ so _sorry—*Sobs* I'm so sor- sorry, Mini-chan—"_

 _"It's_ Asuka _! Quit it with that horrible name!" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]_

—

Statement From (Bartender) Arai Umi

_“Are you_ sure _of the date?” [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]_

 _"Pretty damn sure, saw 'em clear as day. And I don't forget no nothing with this bloody quirk of mine. Not ta mention it was my kaa-chan’s birthday. I was catchin' a smoke after my shift, these both come stumblin' upstairs, wrapped aroun' each other like they glued on with dunlop or some shit, then they pretty much humpin' each other in the fuckin' hallway and I flip them the finger 'cos the door was_ right next to 'em _, *huffs* Then the woman steps on my feet and I'm thinkin' not-so holy thoughts 'cos I just fuckin' washed them that mornin', so I ended up doin' the honors and opened the door an' shoved those two face-sucking moths inside the room, and even made sure to step on the lady's foot too, had to have my payback for that uncool shit she pulled...."_

_"....thank you for your time." [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]_

_"Don’t sweat it, my job entails a shit ton of police work than ya might think."_

_—_

Statement From (Nurse) Uchida Kayano.

_"Minikui Watanabe? Yes, I was incharge of her. We called her Mini-chan around here though, the poor child had such an ugly name. She was in terrible condition too when her okaa-san brought her in,_ barely _alive. And Watanabe-san was frantic, claimed that Mini-chan refused to stop drinking altogether… but the doctor said since Watanabe-san was young okaa-san, she wouldn't know heads or tails on how to handle a child so we didn't report the oddity… no wonder the child looked so frightened at the aspect of returning home…_

_"Any odd behaviour executed by Watanabe-san during her time spent in the hospital?" [Officer Imai Tozen]_

_"Oh no, she was perfectly fine. Picked up tricks I thought her like fish in water, we watched her during the morning because Watanabe-san was working, and she'd come during the night to pump milk and carry Mini-chan—"_

_"_ Asuka _. It's Asuka, kindly refer to the child by that name please." [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]_

_"Ah, yes, sorry, Asuka-chan. Watanabe-san would carry Asuka-chan…"_

_—_

Statement From (Doctor) Kikuchi Taigen. 

_"... after the diagnosis was confirmed we questioned Watanabe-san about it, but she was a young okaa-san, claimed that Mini-chan—"_

_"_ Goddamnit _, its A-s-u-k-a, is that hard to pronounce? Why do you all insist on calling the kid that shit stain of a name?!" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]_

_"—pardon me?"_

_"—can you stop blowing up at everything and everyone?— Kikuchi-san, it is most adequate if you'd call the child Asuka and not_ 'Minikui' _, thank you." [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]_

_"Um, okay, s-so she claimed that Asuka-chan had stopped suckling all a sudden and said something along the lines of how she thought her child might not want to feel like eating and promptly burst into tears... I felt bad for her, and most young okaa-sans are clueless… we get plenty of those around here, so our normal procedure was to teach Watanabe-san how to properly take care of the child…"_

_"And you are_ sure _you found no signs of abuse?" [Officer Imai Tozen]_

_"Yes, *nods head*, Asuka-chan was in a terrible condition when she was bought in, and Watanabe-san had also claimed that she had gradually fell asleep while trying to feed her, and later that morning realised that her child was burning up. Since there was…”_

—

Shouta closed the file with a nasty storm brewing inside his chest. 

Asuka had nearly died. 

Despite all that he read, that was what pricked him the most. _His daughter had almost died._

“Did… did she agree to everything on this file or—”

Kayama let out what could be considered a growl, “No, that woman had no remorse. Didn't even _try_ to defend herself when I asked her— you know what? Do the fucking honors yourself, I’m going to get another coffee.” and Kayama stood up, strutting away to the other end of the hallway, her curses still echoing in his ears. 

Shouta sighed, tightening his hold on the file as he stood up. So much for an uneventful night. 

*

“Are you going to ask me anything _orrr_ are you just gonna continue staring at me? I mean I know I’m prettier than anyone you’ve ever met, but glaring like that is rude, you know?....”

And Shouta stared at her more intensely, his memory not spiking at the image of this woman in the _least_ , so he started with the basics. “How’d you find out my address?” 

“Finally asking, huh?” she smirked, gold eyes gleaming as she clasped her cuffed hands together. “That’s an easy question though, had a friend hack it— not going to tell you who the friend is, I ain't no snitch.” 

Yeah, she was everything else but a snitch. He maintained a neutral expression, “Was there an ulterior motive in returning back to your family? And none of your bullshit answers because I _will_ know.”

“Scary.” she pouted mockingly, tilting her head and looking straight into his hardened grey eyes, “You weren't like this that night though… _so vulnerable_ and _innocent_ and _delectable_ —”

“Answer the question that you are _asked_.” 

Her silvery laugh filled the room, “Minkui's papa’s _so_ cute. You’re a sensitive soul, aren't you? So _unlike_ the busty woman who just interrogated me. Have no idea why she went King Kong on me though, I was perfectly cooperative.”

“You—”

“Fine, fine, I’m answering, you wanted to know whether I had an ulterior motive by going back to my family? Of course I did, dip shit, why would I go there if I didn't have any choice? My boyfriend ditched me after he found I was pregnant, said he ain’t taking care of some bastard child and honestly, I wasn't psyched about it _either_ , but my life was at risk if I had aborted her then, so there’s _that_.” she sighed dramatically, “And it wasn't like that child made my life any easier _after_ she was born, I mean honestly, that pain-in-the-ass didn't even _look like me_ , black hair and green eyes— her name fits her quite perfectly, ‘ _Minikui_ '." 

Shouta wondered if his ears were dirty. 

“Heard she’s called _Asuka_ now, I think that name’s too good for a shit stain like that, but you know what, papa? You do you— where were we, oh yeah, so anyways, since I couldn't just show up at front door and earn free sympathy points, I roughed myself up and _cried—_ fucking _excel_ at crying, by the way, and everyone’s perpetually slave to gorgeous women, _except_ when you have a kid, that is. No matter how pretty I was, if I was seen with that blob of annoyance, everyone’s _always_ crowding her, like the fuck? _Are they blind?_ I didn't take her out much, but the nurses were always slaving over that fucking walnut like she was some emperor—” bile rose his throat, but he shoved it down forcefully, trying to focus his eyes on the blabbing menace. 

“Moving on, my parents, of course, let me live them, were intrusive as shit though, so I ended crying more— hey papa, you good? You’re looking a little pale right now” her eyebrows furrowed, staring at him with a slight tilt of her head, and if it were another day, another circumstance where they _weren't_ acquainted, he _might have_ thought she was aesthetically pleasing, but right now, it was _sickening._ Watanabe Takeru’s whole being was sickening to him. “Oh I get it! It’s taking a toll on you, right? Looking after that leech has been draining you—”

“ _Shut up_.” Shouta said scathingly, “Another word about Asuka and I just might forget that you’re a _woman_.” 

"Wow, sexist much?" 

And he was _close_ to doing something exceedingly illegal, "Asuka's a _perfectly_ lovely child, if anyone's _the_ _menace_ or _the leech_ or _an annoying pain in the ass_ or _a blob of annoyance_ or _a fucking walnut_ ; that's _you_ , Watanabe Takeru." he inhaled deeply to placate himself, "Do you realise what you're here for? Or are you as demented as you seem?"

The woman huffed, looking away from him and pushing her chair back, rocking it back and forth. "That's harsh, papa." she drawled lazily, "'course I know what I'm here for." 

He hoped she slipped from the stool. "Did Asuka _really_ refuse to drink from you or did _you_ refuse her from food?" 

“ _Woah_ , hold up about that—” her eyebrows furrowed, and distress showed on her face. Shouta might’ve taken that as a minuscule amount of concern she had left for Asuka because the woman had seemingly _birthed her_ if not for the next words escaping her mouth. “I did _nothing_ of that sort— I mean it _wasn't_ — like I didn't _mean_ it, okay?! Sometimes I _forget_ to feed her and only remember to when she cries.” she huffed annoyedly, hiking her shoulder to adjust her hair, “As much as I dislike the kid, I didn't want her to die, alright?” 

_….and that was supposedly a valid reason to justify almost killing his daughter?_

“Stop looking at me like that!” she snapped at him, “It was an accident, alright?—”

He hiked up the look he had just to peeve her, “If you had the means to locate me, why didn't you do it sooner?” that would've been a hell of a lot better for Asuka. No wonder the kid got so clingy, this pest of a woman made sure to void her of any form of affection.

Takeru scoffed, “You think you were my first choice? You do realise that were the same fucking age, don't you?” then her expression got eerily neutral, “Haven't you read about how I was going to put her for adoption?— yeah, well, that plan went out the window as soon as that _kid_ got herself diagnosed with some monia or whatever.” she shrugged casually, picking off the jewels from her manicured fingers, “So I turned to my friend to get _your_ address— which by the way, was a fucking bitch to get to, out of _all_ the type of heroes you could be, you went ahead and picked the most _annoying_ one.” 

“You're despicable.” Shouta said heavily, staring at her golden orbs. 

“I know.” she retorted, a beaming smile taking place on her face. 

“You’ve traumatized a child that can barely talk.” he threw next, knowing that won't have an effect on this sociopath. 

She rolled her eyes, “She’ll get over it.” 

“You know she doesn't cry much?” he continued, not knowing why he was talking to this stone-heart nuisance, “ _Rarely_ did in the first two months. First time she laughed was when she saw a hero dressed like a ninja. She loves anything ninja related, really. Her favorite toy is the rattle from the day she received her name. She _hates_ it when I change her diapers, and still glares at me sometimes. She likes it when I ruffle her hair, always leans into my touch. And her version of a hug is squeezing my hand—"

“Why are you telling—"

“She’s an extremely smart kid, and I sometimes think that she understands me on a level that six month olds shouldn't be able to. She causes mayhem in the Night Care I send her to, and I can’t even _elaborate_ on the pout she makes whenever I tell her to behave. She hates it when strangers touch her cheeks—"

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re trying to—”

“She enamours people wherever she goes. She loves the bouncer chair I bought her, and I don't know exactly what it is that she does, but her eyes move too much beneath her lids to show that she isn't sleeping. She’s unusually strong for a baby, and especially doesn't let go of me when she’s crying. She loves the walks we go on—

A loud clang reverberated from the cuffs meeting the table. “WHAT IS THE POINT OF TELLING ME ALL THIS?!” 

Shouta pushed his chair back and stood up, “It’s a simple conclusion, isn't it? I’m telling you everything about a child you deemed to be a nuisance. I’m telling you about everything you ever missed and everything you’ll _never_ have.” he pushed the chair inside and unpocketted his phone, “I’m amplifying your irresponsibility and dispassion that are stuck to the very core of your _vile_ soul.” and he relished the redness displayed on her face as he tapped his gallery and clicked on specific photo.

“This is Aizawa Asuka the first month she was dropped to my doorstep.” he showed it to the befuddled woman, before taking it back and swiping to the one latest where Kayama and Hizashi dressed her up as mermaid, “This is her now. How is it? Doesn't she look a _thousand_ times better than your narcissistic ass?— then again, a dead carcass of a gorilla looks better than _you_.”

She cackled this time, loud and ugly, “Oi shithead, you think I’m jealous of that shitstain? You think I’m _magically_ going to develop a motherly instinct for that squirming worm? You both papa and daughter could go hell for all I care!” 

Shouta stuffed his phone inside his pocket and regarded her with a bored gaze, “I honestly don't expect _anything_ from _you_. I’m sure nothing’s going to affect your cold, dead heart; not the sorrow of your parents, not the concern of your siblings, not the cry of your own flesh and blood,” he tore his gaze away from her and turned to the door. “You’re the extremity of what a lost cause could extend to, Watanabe Takeru.”

And Shouta left, not at all looking forward to the day of trial because seeing her face still made him want to punch it. 

*

On July twenty-ninth, the day Asuka turned seven months, Shouta was being forced into wearing swimming trunks. 

“Dude, _this_ is the time to create memories! Do you want Asuka-chan to forever remember you as a crusty old hobo? Do you?!” Kayama shouted in his face, perforating the sunny yellow trunks into his chest. “We _need_ those photos! I even spent half my salary on this bougie camera!" 

Shouta took the neon monstrosity from her hand reluctantly, "I'm not doing this if I have to wear the same color shirt." he grunted, and Kayama smiled so brightly that he was tempted to burn the glowing cloth. 

"Actually, the shirt did—"

"I'm not doing it." 

"But Sho—”

“You might have succeeded in dressing me as a fucking cat on the fourth month, but this shit’s going to blind me and I am _not_ wearing it.” Shouta sacked the shorts on Kayama’s crimson sofa and promptly sat on it. 

The seventh month shoot was supposedly _pool_ themed and he wouldn't have hated taking photos if both his friends weren't so insistent on dressing _him_ up along with Asuka _every_ time. The fifth month theme was the only one that was relatively normal, and even in _that_ , they had ventured over to a field of flowers and made him wear a floral wreath over his head. 

“ _I_ made the _effort_ to decorate _my_ apartment and you do _this_ to me?!” Kayama squealed, and suddenly he was attacked from the side, trapped in a headlock while she tried to make juice out of his brain.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Hizashi’s voice echoed in the living room. Shouta’s palm heel met Kayama’s chin right then, and Kayama lost her grip, which made her fall on top of Shouta's head. 

“Sho refuses to wear the outfit I picked him!” Kayama complained instantaneously, not bothering to fix her posture. 

Hizashi scoffed, readjusting his grip on seven month old Asuka who was dressed in a sunny yellow, frilled two-piece swimsuit. “Told you he wouldn't wear that.” 

Kayama huffed, purposely digging her elbows into his side as she stood up, “Fine! Don't wear anything you fucking grouch!” 

“I won’t!” Shouta slapped back, equally peeved. 

Later, they compromised with the yellow trunks and a black shirt Hizashi had bought just in case Kayama hadn't managed to convince Shouta. Then they took pictures in the pool where they had various inflated floaties (too many). Asuka was as photogenic as ever, smiling where the camera was with her gummy smile radiating, Shouta's subdued smile was there whenever Kayama wasn't snapping at him to smile, but he grinned his crazy grin just to peeve her because her requests got too much to handle. And the last photo to conclude the photoshoot was the one where they all took together; Kayama on his right, Hizashi on his left and Asuka in the middle. 

Amongst the numerous pictures he had to choose from, those were the photos he never had trouble putting in the album. 

*

Kayama always knew Asuka was a weird kid, and she did plenty of weird shit to validate that point. But this was something she was seeing for the first time, and...just.. _wow._

“She does that sometimes.” Utano said, watching the scene unfold with amused eyes. 

Kayama rarely ever came to pick up Asuka from the Night Care, but Shouta was running a high fever and his condition seemed quite serious from the way he kept pausing with every word. 

“...you mean she uses that kid’s face as a stepping stool to climb over the gate?” she enunciated slowly, blinking at the way the green-haired kid proceeded to shoot a thumbs up at Asuka and Asuka in return, nodding at that kid before crawling away to what seemed to be just another area of rowdy kids. “Why… _Why_ does she do that?” Kayama questioned, thoroughly confused. 

Utano shrugged, “We don't know, sometimes, she just latches onto a kid’s arm and doesn't let go, other times, she’s just starin’ at the kids who’re using their quirks with a starry-eyed expression.” she leaned against the wall opposite to the two-way mirror, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched Asuka latching onto Tanaka’s elbow, then almost chuckled at the way the boy appeared flustered, “She’s smart about it too, if we keep checkin’ on her too much, she minds her own business and plays with 'zuku, but the moment we let our guard down, _well_ , you’re witnessin’ the results right now.” 

Kayama nodded slowly, still observing the wild spectacle of the kid just deadass staring at the startled boy without letting him go. Then another kid with wild indigo hair entered the scene, shouting about what a _little worm_ was doing at the _big kids_ side before promptly _pushing the eight month old to the point where the little bean lost her balance and crashed on the ground. The fucking insolence_ —

“Brawls among children are common, Kayama-kun.” Utano stopped her before she even thought of stepping out, “And beating up a kid three-fourth your age definitely ain’t the solution.”

“I wasn't _thinking_ of fighting a kid.” Kayama replied defiantly, advancing onto exit behind the screen to enter the common area when Utano halted her steps. 

“There’s always a caretaker around to supervise.” the older woman provided, “Besides, I’d say Asuka-chan’s got the situation under control.” 

And Kayama was only momentarily puzzled before she gasped at Asuka ramming her legs into the purple-haired brat’s shin, then watched with growing astoundment when the boy proceeded to _fall_ with a loud cry— _the boy fell from a baby kick_ — and that wasn't even the end, _no_ , Asuka was climbing over the kid’s chest now, splatting her chubby hands at the shocked boy’s face as if she was killing _bugs._

Kayama didn't particularly like the kid for pushing Asuka as he did moments ago, but she wasn't necessarily sadistic enough to keep feeding her inner monster, so she tucked in her definitely-not amusement and escaped from behind the two-way mirror. By the time she slid through the common area’s sliding door, someone one was already calming the dispute between the two kids. 

“— now both of you say _sorry_ to each other and hug it out!” a bunny eared woman spoke in a reprimanding tone. 

Kayama stifled a laughter at the disgusted face Asuka proceeded to make. 

“She’s glaring at me!” the kid with the purple hair screeched, hiding behind a male caretaker. 

“Oh no, that’s just Asuka-chan’s sorry face. Come on now, this all started because you provoked her, Daichi-kun, let’s be the bigger person and say sorry, alright?”

“But she’s a _baby_! She won’t understand what I’m saying!” Daichi the brat yelled.

"You'll hurt her feelings." Bunny ears admonished.

And Kayama had enough of kiddy drama, she had to buy Shouta’s medicine on the way to his apartment and this brat was just delaying that. 

“Here to pick up Asuka-chan!” she chirped, entirely disregarding the mood. 

“Kayama-san, right? Let me just get her bag.” Yumena who had just entered the scene to find out the source of commotion exited. Kayama wasted no time in taking Asuka from Bunny ears who seemed quite conflicted. 

“Daichi-kun…” Bunny ears pressed. And said brat appeared more bratty than ever, turning up his nose and tucking himself behind the flustered male caretaker. 

“S-sorry about this,” the male caretaker stuttered, simultaneously tapping the younger boy's arm in an attempt to vomit and apology from him, “oi, Daichi, are you really going to act like this? Asuka-chan’s okaa-san is a Hero, you know? She might even get you crossed off All Might’s good list if you keep behaving like this.” 

That seemed to ring out an expression from both of them. 

Both of them meaning Kayama and Daichi of course. 

“She’ll get me cut off All Might’s good list?!” the boy screamed wobbly. 

“Okaa-san?” Kayama whispered confusedly. 

The other kids started murmuring, some squealing hysterically because getting cut off All Might’s good list was apparently a _huge fucking deal_. 

“No way!” the boy seemed in denial, evidently feeling confident too because he was getting out his protective shell, said shell, was of course, behind the male caretaker’s legs, “You're lying, Bunko-nii-chan! And lying is bad! I’ve never seen this lady hero!” 

“Oh?” Kayama questioned, her thread of patience snapping, “Tell me, _boy_ ,” and she crouched to his level, studying his light purple eyes intensely, “just because you don't _see_ something, does that mean it doesn't exist? You don't _see_ oxygen, but you sure as hell _breath_ in it, don't you? You can't see UV rays with naked eyes, but it _still_ kills millions of people each year, doesn't it? You don't _see_ gravity, but that's the very reason you’re able to stand right now, isn't it? You don't see—”

“Kayama-san…”

“ _Well_ , the moral of the story is,” Kayama chirped, changed her tune almost instantaneously seeing the kid was near tears, “don't disregard everything you _don't see_ or _don't know_? Alright? They’re _plenty_ of heroes out there you haven't _seen_.” then she took his right hand and squeezed it reassuringly while wearing a sickeningly sweet smile, “Now let's make up so that no one ends up on All Might’s naughty list.” 

Daichi nodded, his teary gaze focusing on Asuka, “Sorry, Asuka, for pushing you that hard. That was wrong of me and, and I’m _very_ sorry…. Just _please_ tell you okaa-san to not tell All Might about me, alright? I don’t wanna end up on the naughty list..”

“I’m not—”

“ _Ma_!” 

And Kayama stilled very briefly, then nudged Asuka to tell her version of sorry which was really just a bunch of indecipherable babbles. 

When she left the establishment with the bag slinging over her shoulder, Kayama deemed it appropriate to say her next words. 

“Was that fucking hoax or did you really just call me _‘Ma’_ ” 

Asuka blinked at her, emerald orbs glimmering innocently. 

“Because if that really _is_ your first word, _your_ _papa’s_ going to murder me.” 

“Ma.” 

Kayama felt like crying. “ _Please_ don't call me that.” 

“ _Mama_.” 

That day, Kayama left the medicine hanging at the door handle so that Hizashi could receive it, bought a bunch of baby products that Asuka might need, then retired to her home because, well, she _really_ didn't want to be on the receiving end of Shouta’s pouting, which the man in question would refuse to the point of frustration, then go an extra length to contradict it by committing every petty act he could do towards her— _point was_ , she couldn't deal with that. 

“If you’re tiny baby brain can understand me to the _slightest_ degree, please call Sho _papa_ , alright? Pretty please?” she pleaded, feeding her a spoon of a random, surprisingly good tasting vegetable mix, “Like the dude’s going to sulk for _ages_ , and I’d really rather not be on the receiving end of his wrath.” 

Asuka tilted her head, and Kayama smiled hopefully. 

“Mama.” 

“You know what? Fuck you, you adorable piece of shit.” 

*

Next day, Kayama went over to drop Asuka at Shouta’s place after confirming that he was doing well, feeling quite hopeful that Asuka had _forgotten_ her first words. The girl hadn't repeated it after last night, and she didn't know if it was because Asuka was in the process of waking up, but the girl hadn't so much mumbled the word ‘ _ma_ ’ or anything remotely close to the word for that matter. 

“Asuka-chan, try saying _‘papa’._ ” Kayama said, making sure to keep her words clear and slow enough for the kid to follow. 

Asuka didn't seem very interested in repeating her words because she was tugging at the strands of Kayama’s loose ponytail, though the girl _did_ seem to wear the most peculiar face of… of something Kayama couldn't quite distinguish. 

“Come one!” Kayama whined, lowering her pace on purpose. “You can't do this to me!” 

After five minutes of constant complaining to a child, Kayama decided to enter a small establishment to have a second round of breakfast. 

Then promptly crashed into someone. 

“Kayama-chan?” 

And Kayama couldn't help the smile breaking out on her face. 

“Tomo!” she exclaimed, “How’re you dude? Last I saw of you was graduation!” 

Shiretoko Tomoko, more famously known as Ragdoll now, bounced on her heels as her yellow eyes peered at the child Kayama was holding. “Yeah, it’s been so long.” she answered cheerfully, “But I didn't know you had such an _adorable_ imouto.” 

Kayama blinked, simultaneously side-stepping because she was in the way of another customer, “She’s not—”

“Oh? Is that you, Nemuri?” 

Not a beat later Asuka was giggling and Kayama almost _swore_ at the sexiness before her eyes. Kamihara Shinya have looked like a walking origami to some, but Kayama found him _absolutely_ exotic. The man was _oozed_ of everything she wanted to dominate, and his obliviousness to her attraction was only more—

“Oh, Aizawa’s daughter is here too.” her thoughts halted and she was hit with an exceedingly bad premonition. “Hi again! Nice to see you.” and Shinya shook one Asuka’s wildly flying hands, a smile visible on his face since he wasn't wearing his standard mask. 

“Aizawa?” Tomoko questioned, eyebrows furrowed, “You mean _Aizawa Shouta-kun_?” she emphasized, glancing between a haggard looking Kayama, a buoyant child and Shinya who seemed extremely amused. 

“Do we know another one of the same name?” Shinya retorted, throwing a hand over Tomoko's shoulder. An action Kayama missed because she was having an internal crisis. “But this sure is a surprise. Never thought you two would've clicked like _that_.”

“Surprise?!” Tomoko bursted, spontaneously latching onto the extended chubby hands fiddling with Shinya’s always hanging scarf (The man seemed to wear it no matter what the weather was) and squeezed to assure her heart and eyes, “This is a _fucking miracle_! Kayama-chan and Shouta-kun— that— you know what? I’m not judging, you guys do you— but holy shit Kayama _you_ as a mother? That’s just… _wow_...” and Tomoko just stared disbelievingly, her hold still firm on Asuka’s chubby hands. 

“Look, she isn't—”

“ _Mama_!” 

And Kayama let out an incomprehensible growls that earned her too many odd glances. “You made her say the M word again!” she finally screeched, her purple eyes glassy as she childishly pointed at the yellow-eyed woman. 

“Oh my,” Shinya said, “Are you alright, Nemuri-san?” 

“Mama!” 

“All right?!” Kayama screamed, “I am _not_ fucking _alright,_ but thank you very much for asking!” 

Soon after Kayama left the establishment after losing her appetite and heard Shinya say something about _keeping their secrets_ or whatever, Kayama was too infuriated to retaliate or correct their misunderstanding because they reminded Asuka of the M word she wasn’t _supposed_ to remember. 

“Kid, _mama_ is very fucking endearing, it really is,” Kayama started after a deep breath, “and honestly, I don't even mind you calling that.” she dodged a kid hopping over the white strips of the zebra crossing, “But before you started calling _me_ anything, why don't you start with your _papa_ , huh? I assure you he’ll be over the moon, even if he _does_ look constipated while showing it.” 

Kayama nearly tripped over when she stepped onto the pavement and Asuka’s giggle echoed in her ears. “Yes, seeing me suffer is very amusing to you, isn't it?” she stared at the kid’s emerald orbs, then tugged at the marshmallow cheeks. “If you’re smart enough to climb over the gate by using another kid’s face as a staircase, then why can’t you understand _this_?” Asuka whined, shaking her head to make the hand on her face go away, and Kayama loosened her hold, booping her nose before returning her hand at her side. 

“ _Fine_ , be that way.” Kayama said in mock anger. Ensuingly, her anger facade melted along with Asuka rubbing her face against Kayama’s, copying the million times Kayama had initiated the same action towards her, but the first time she had done it on her own volition. 

And she couldn't even find it in herself to get frustrated when another _mama_ escaped Asuka’s lips. 

*

The stairs up to Shouta’s apartment were somehow more tiring than usual, but Kayama decided Asuka’s speech was out of her control and Shouta would likely get over that in a few days— years. When her feet met the platform, Asuka’s light babble intensified, when her hands knocked the door, it didn't even take more than a minute to open. 

And there Shouta was, his wavy hair tied to a ponytail, clad in a rare white shirt and grey shorts, ash eyes only meeting hers for a fraction before focusing on his daughter, relief evident in his eyes. 

“How was—” Shouta extended his arms to take Asuka, Kayama stepped back, her hold tightening on the kid. His eyebrow quirked, “I don't have a fever anymore.”

“I know.” Kayama said, gnawing the insides of her cheek, “But, before anything else happens, I want to tell you something.” 

“ _What_ did you do?” Shouta questioned cautiously, hands falling back to his side. 

“Hey, it’s nothing scandalous or anythin’,'' Kayama defended, jutting her chin at him, “And it wasn't even _my fault_ this time, your kid— _look,_ I don't know how this happened, alright? We _barely_ bring it up around her, but she might’ve caught it at the Night Care— point _is_ , please don't hate me!” 

“Kayama, stop beating around the bush.” Shouta pronounced annoyedly.

“She called me _mama_ , alright?!” Kayama bursted, “I don't know _why_ , or _how_ , or _when_ she learnt it— just don't hate me! Believe me, I _tried_ getting her to call you papa!” 

Shout stared at for a solid minute. And Kayama was starting to think it he might have a seizure any second, but then—

“Pfft—”

“...are you _laughing_?” Kayama asked in disbelief, watching Shouta’s head turning to a side as his hand covered the lower half of his face. 

“Course no—pfft”

“YOU ARE!” Kayama screeched. 

Then Shouta slammed the door on her face and Kayama was deeply confused. 

Was he going _mad_ from shock?

“Told you he wouldn't cope well with it.” Kayama said, tilting her head backwards as she bounced on her feet. “We might as well get out of here and let him deal with whatever the fuck he’s going through.” 

Evidently, Asuka thought otherwise because she tugged at Kayama’s hair a lot more violently compared to when she was just playing, “Yes, I know you’re a papa’s girl through and through and all, but I don't think he has the mental capacity to handle you right now, pipsqueak. You’ve just graced him with the ultimate form of betrayal.”

An indignant squawk echoed, “ _Glaring at me_ doesn't _fix_ what _you’ve_ done. Call me dramatic or whatever, but that man decided _not to_ put you up for adoption just to spite his okaa-san. And if that doesn't give you a clear cut example of just how _petty_ he can be, then I don't know what it is.”

“Papa.” 

Kayama rolled her eyes, “Yeah, that’s right, that’s _exactly_ the reason why I’ll be on the receiving end of his pinnacle of pettiness.” 

“Papa.”

“I mean, don't get me wrong, but I don't think he was going to put you up for adoption anyways, but it certainly _did_ bring a stop in us having to bring all those candidates. ‘Zashi was right, you know? The day he brought back a shop full of baby products just to accommodate you for a ‘few nights’, he said he knew _exactly_ how this was going to end.”

“Papa.” 

“Sho was already whipped for you by the end of the first month— _what the fuck did you just say?_ ” Kayama loomed at the child like she had grown two heads. 

Then Shouta opened the door, no signs of his prior episode of hilarity evident except for the amused glimmer in his eyes. 

Kayama scramble to explain, “Sho she just called you—”

“ _Papa_ , yes, I know.” Shouta said, extending his arms to retrieve the child once more. Kayama didn't back away this time, openly gaping as Shouta patted his daughter’s head with unveiled fondness. 

“You— _when—_ how the— were you— AND YOU COULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME SOONER YOU FUCKING TROGLODYTE!” Kayama erupted, heaving, neck veins popping and nose flaring. 

“You _do_ realise I have neighbours?” 

_“Fuck your neighbours_. Do you know how much sleep I lost over this?!” 

Shouta shrugged, turning his back on her and walking inside his apartment. Kayama stomped inside after him, hazardously shutting the door and throwing her shoes untidily, then sacked the baby bag on a heavily slumbering Hizashi who was curled up on the two seated sofa. 

Shouta settled Asuka on the play mat, knowing that she wouldn't move around before retreating to the kitchen where Kayama was drinking water out of the water jug. Disgusting. 

“I hate you.” 

“Okay.” 

“I really, _really_ fucking hate you, you piece of fucking shit, do you realise how _important_ sleep is to me? _You_ might like roaming around the night like some soulless zombie, but I _need—_ ”

“Yeah, we both know this isn't about losing sleep.” Shouta intervened, snagging the jug from Kayama as he ventured to the sink, picking up the sponge, he aggressively scrubbed the jug. 

“Damn right it isn't you fucker!” Kayama bellowed. 

“Look, it was a surprise to me too.” Shouta said, rinsing the jug, “She said it out of nowhere while I was dropping her off at the Night Care, and seriously, what’d you do with her first words anyway? Frame them? It isn't like she said anything out of the ordinary.” 

Kayama grumbled distinctly coherent curses. 

“And Asuka calling you _mama_ probably isn't what you think it is.” he added, drying the outside of the jug.

She quirked an eyebrow. 

“She calls Hizashi ‘ _Ee_ ’, and you’re named Kayama, her version of your name is just the last two words: Ma.” he started filling the jug with fresh water, “ _Mama_ is presumably from the Night Care, I reckon she hears plenty of those there. It’s not a surprise that she put two and two together.” 

“That makes sense.” Kayama nodded, “But _hold the fuck up about her calling Hizashi_ ‘Ee’— why am _I_ the last one?!” 

“Why’re you so immature?” Shouta retorted, placing the jug where it was. 

Kayama snorted, “Says the dude who got a fever from his daughter calling him _papa._ Some tough shit you are.”

“I did _not— “_

“Oh save it Sho, we both know you didn't just randomly drop sick.”

Shouta glared at her, and Kayama shot him the shittiest smile she could muster up. 

Then they heard a familiar squawk from their habitually cacophonous friend and both their attention turned to that. 

“SHE’S WALKING! ASUKA-CHAN’S WALKING— WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PHONE?!”

Kayama cackled wildly, leaving her stool shaking in her wake as she zoomed to where Hizashi was. Sure enough, Asuka _was_ walking. The kid really was dumping all the surprises at once. 

She looked back to observe her tsundere friend’s reaction, but he wasn't there. 

Instead, he was crouching a little further away from the kitchen, his line of sight directly in front of Asuka’s as he beckoned her to come with a preciously discernible _smile displayed on his face._

“Oi ‘zashi,” Kayama muttered, “forget about Asuka-chan, make sure to take that picture of Sho before he starts scowling again.”

“Roger that.” Hizashi murmured without reluctance. 

They watched the scene from the couch as Asuka’s chubby legs trudged towards a waiting Shouta, her hands extended to balance herself and a gummy grin splayed on her angelic face, small bouts of giggles escaping from no doubt, the exuberance she was emitting. When Asuka neared Shouta, she jumped into his hands, hugging the man with everything her little body had, Shouta's hand covered the little body whole, reciprocating the hug in such an endearing manner that Hizashi sniffed beside her, mumbling some shit about how _beautiful_ this was. 

And it was. 

It truly was. 

Not that _she_ was crying. 

No way. 

  
*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of flat lined when writing the last segment of this chapter, so I'm sorry if it's bland.
> 
> But I seriously want to jump in on when she gets older, and I can't do that because that'll mess up the plans I have for this •—•
> 
> List of OC’s for this chapter:  
> Nakamura Utane- night care worker  
> Sato Yumena- night care worker  
> Akane Sasaki- night care worker  
> Bunko- night care worker  
> Miyazaki Yasuko- police officer  
> Imai Tozen- police officer  
> Takeda Wakami- police officer  
> Daichi- brat kid  
> Tanaka- flustered kid  
> Arai Umi- Bartender  
> Uchida Kayano- Nurse  
> Kikuchi Taigen- Doctor moron  
> Watanabe Takeru- Bitch  
> Watanabe Takako- not-so bright aunt
> 
> Anywayssss, hope this was a good read♡


	4. Burgers and smoothies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asuka grows.

“Be honest, are you suicidal?”

A squawk echoed before the bulldozer in his hand started struggling to be put down. _Again_. 

“Asuka, your knees are _scraped_ , your elbow looks _horrid_ , your toe is _bleeding_ and blood is _all over_ your teeth. I am _not_ putting you down just so you can get more injured.” 

“Papa!” his possibly crazy daughter screamed, glaring at him with emerald eyes. He only tightened his hold on her. 

“Don't _papa_ me.” and she actually huffed at him, then proceeded to ram her mouth in his shoulder, _biting him._

He snorted this time, “Yes, receiving a bite from your barely stable teeths are _very_ hurtful. Does that quench your thirst, maniacal child? Or do you still want to zoom around the park and crash yourself into a tree like you did three minutes back?” 

Another cry of frustration was enough to answer his question. 

One moment he was setting her on the ground of the park they frequented, the next moment she decided she didn't need his support to walk— _to run_ , quite literally making his heart vomit when she sprinted in full speed, ramming into a dog with a frisbee in it’s mouth. Then as if that wasn't enough of a scare, she proceeded to get up before he could reach her and went full throttle on the terrifying running spree, hair flapping behind her and loud, laboured laughs resonating along with her new found hobby of making his heart suffer. 

Then she crashed into a fucking _baby stroller_ with _another baby inside it_ and he didn't know he could exhale so many _sorry’s_ at once at the startled mother pushing the said stroller. And really, he didn't think the kid would continue on her wild endeavor of colliding with living and nonliving being all alike while having a nasty, scraped knee, but he was proven wrong within eye blinks because halfway through his apologies to the woman, she zoomed off into the horizon, allowing very coherent curses to flip out his mouth as he started chasing after a nine-month old child who had only started walking a week ago.

He, a fucking pro hero, one of his winning and best qualities being _agility_ , could not stop his nine month old daughter when she pounded into a massive tree trunk. He was honestly hoping for her to _cry_ , which was _normal_ , and he assumed so were the other people gathered near the space who were enjoying a nice picnic under the thick foliage provided by the innocent tree. But of course Asuka didn't _cry_. 

She smiled instead, a bright, toothy and _bloody_ grin as she fell back, reeling from the heavy smack she took. Fortunately, he caught her from falling on the grass, just staying still for a minute because _what the fuck._

So now here they were, him taking her to a hospital because he didn't want to assume anything with her health and his spawn’s mood taking a one-eighty turn because he refused to stay at the park any longer to allow her to enjoy the venture of an improvised version of whack-a-mole with a twist of herself being the hammer. 

“We’re going whether you like it or not, you should’ve thought it through before running off like that.” he grunted. 

She glared at him.

“You know as soon as the adrenaline flushes out you’re going to be in some bitch ass pain?” 

“Papa no!” 

“I have _no_ idea what that means, but we're not going back to the park for today. You look like someone sucker punched you in the face, Asuka, and for someone who’s suffered pneumonia, I’m not risking it with the infections. _In fact_ , we aren't going to the park until your leg is scarfree.” 

She appeared glassy-eyed at that. 

Well, now he regretted saying that. 

But he didn't take it back either. Sometimes, putting your foot down was… necessary. 

*

Asuka really had no clue on what compelled her to take off like that. 

Maybe she’d blame it on the baby instincts.

Pain was in consonance with risk. And she took the risk to stumble about in her noodle legs, but running was freeing, and her papa didn't necessarily keep her cage in their home to make her feel this way, he took her out on multiple occasions which didn't entail the trips to the Night Care. It was just that, the wind was guiding, her adrenaline was high and she felt like she was flying on trees back at Konoha. 

Then she woke up from her daydream when she knocked into a tree. 

And somehow, she was caked with blood— how reminiscent— while being trudged towards somewhere that didn't have all the free space in the world to unleash her metaphorical wings. She was sure her father had his heart in a good place, but these injuries were quite literally baby food, nothing anyone would need to _ban_ park time over.

But baby food injuries were stinging her knees like a _bitch_ and she wanted to smack the nurse who was performing the task so immaculately. The cherry on top though? A tetanus shot on her tushy ass. Her father seemed highly amused for someone who was complaining about pneumonia and infections and _park-bans_ and what-nots. 

That afternoon though, her father made her a special spaghetti mix and she didn't think anymore pouting was necessary.

Asuka figured it was one of his spontaneous off days because he wasn't dressing her up for Night Care right after feeding her. And on days like these, the things her father did were spontaneous too. It might be rearranging the family album with the latest batch of photos they took as she sat next to him, indirectly pointing at the ones she deemed worthy for the sole reason that he appeared to be developing an aneurysm while doing so. Other times he’d just lay around the house like a slug while listening to depressing music, and she’d tried her hardest not to fall asleep in the middle of attempting to exercise her hands by trying a braid on his black, equally charcoal hair. There were also times her father would just play a ‘movie’ on the most fascinating device called the ‘television’ and she’d try to keep her interest on it, she _really_ did, but the light emitting from the device was so _intense_ that she’d end up closing her eyes for a few moments and then _bam_! She’d be asleep. 

It was surreal how easily she could sleep during the day. 

Today, she allowed him to dress her in a stark yellow onesie before he set her down on the sofa, throwing a _don't-get-off-the-sofa_ Look before venturing into the kitchen. To be perfectly honest, she liked to do things just to spite him. It was just amusing how babies could do all sorts of shit and get away with it.

Her hands brushed over the chestnut colored sofa, letting herself tilt to the arm rest _only_ due to the annoying bodyache she was experiencing from the tetanus shot.... Or maybe she _could_ fix that? She was medic, after all. What kind of medic didn't know how to relieve pain?

“Nice to see you listened.” her father joined, the sofa sinking as the weight shifted, the smell of popcorn wafting in the air and distracting her from the concentration she should be having. 

Asuka squawked at him. Voluntarily. 

When the television blared open, she closed her eyes on impulse, then felt herself being tugged towards her father as he grunted something about _bad posture_. Still, his cushy firmness was better than the sofa’s. As the television blared with words she soon blurred, Asuka placed her hand on the grazed knee, summoning her healing chakra on whim. 

One thing she learned very soon after coming into this world was that _no one_ could see her chakra— and she learnt it the heart jolting way when she was conjuring up a good old mystic palm when Hizashi entered the room to check up on her sleeping status. For a one whole minute she thought he was going to blow off her ear drums like the day she first called him ‘Ee’, but he just cooed in his usual voice and proceeded to ignore the very palpable green glow in her hand and picked her up from the cot to whisk her away to the living room. 

So of course that revelation intrigued her, consequently her attempt of evoking two whole hands of healing chakra to which none of the three so much as _blinked_ at. It was the same at the Night Care, and her experiment on the streets just made people beam at her for brandishing her adorable _dance_.

Either ways, it was beneficial for her if they didn't pick up on such things. And she didn't dwell on _why_ the beings of this world didn't see the same thing as her, because, quite frankly, many peculiar things had occurred to her during her stay in this world and people not seeing her healing chakra was flopping down on the bottom somewhere on the list. 

She let chakra slip into her body, scanning for infection she knew wasn't there before guiding the warmth to weave under her skin. It wasn’t the first time she was making use of this, but the same nostalgic rush always washed over her. She made sure not to heal it completely though, that would be a lot more noticeable than her shiny chakra. She worked on her elbow, then closed up the cut on her toe to a significant amount and did nothing about her busted lip because there wasn't any real discomfort coming off from the area. 

When she opened her eyes, her father was peering at her. 

She blinked back, trying to make sense of why he seemed to wear such a constipated look. 

“...I’ll take you out in the stroller tomorrow.” 

A laugh sprouted instantaneously. 

*

“You’re going to spoil her.” Shota grunted, slipping on his boots and tapping his foot on the stone ground. 

Hizashi snorted from the sofa without looking up from braiding Asuka’s hair, “As _if_ you don't do that already.” 

Shota stood up, readjusting the streams of his weapon as he slipped his silver goggles under them, “I don't spoil her.”

“Yeah, sure whatever makes you not sleep at night,” Kayama waved off lazily, “but which of these suit her better, the teal or the coral?” she showed them two frocks, shaking them with a deep frown adorning her face. 

“Coral.” 

“Neither.” 

Kayama rolled her eyes, “Then why the hell do you have them? You’re just in a pissy mood ‘cos you can’t come with us— I’m going for the coral.”

“She doesn’t like frocks because they’re itchy.” Shota retorted, “Make her wear overalls.” he turned to leave, clutching on the door knob, then turned around once more, “And no more sweets for the day.” The door slammed shut after that. 

“Heard that, bud?” Hizashi tied the end of the braid, “You’re papa said no more sweets for you.” 

Kayama huffed amusedly, “Of course they’d be no sweets. Shota hates anything strawberry flavored, I don't imagine the cake from this morning just _disappeared_.” 

“Yum.” Asuka croaked, voice heavy with the short nap she woke from. 

On 29th January 2005, morning 5:45 am, Hizashi and Kayama had barged into Shota’s apartment with the cake they ordered the previous night. And of course Shota was peeved, but Hizashi found Asuka’s cheerfulness more important then. Unfortunately, due to their pending shifts, he and Kayama had to leave right after cutting the cake and snapping some quick shots. 

He had no doubt that Shota had a fantastic day of spoiling his daughter with all that he could. And numerous things were a dead giver for that conclusion, like the new green boots neatly arrange by the doorstep, the foreign clothes washed and hung near the heater, a simple, emerald studded necklace adorning Asuka’s neck and last, but most likely not the end of the list, the plethora of bright colored wrappers of _everything_ sweet Asuka liked placed nicely near the rest of the garbage to be taken away. (He’d have missed that if he didn’t manage to trip over it)

Hizashi squished the kid’s cheek because he couldn't pat her head, “Of course it was, now let’s get you dressed up for the best birthday ever!” 

*

“This isn't working.” 

“Yeah, I don't think she likes dolls. Or the doll house. And Sho’s already got her tricycle. And she doesn't seem interested in blocks.”

“She pushed away the Legos.”

“And the rocking horse.” 

“What about the inflatable funhouse?” 

“Oh that’s a good one!”

Kayama and Hizashi stood in a corner, discussing their mildly unsuccessful venture of spoiling Asuka. 

Art supplies like crayons and color pencils were at Shota’s home already so they didn't feel the need to buy anything similar. In fact, they didn't even stumble into the stationery sections of the toy store at all. So far, all they got into the basket was multiple Edgeshot merch, two stuffed toys, one in the shape of an ugly slug, the other a stark, orange fox and a jar of candy Eclairs. And the inflatable fun house.

It disappointed them a lot more than expected when Asuka didn't go spiraling around the store, touching everything she liked so that they could purchase it as they had initially intended. Well, maybe not _everything,_ but maybe the majority. They still had rents to pay and debts to reimburse. 

“We still have a few more stops.” Kayama said, pacing her steps to match Asuka’s as the one year old ambled about cheerfully, unknown to the dilemma they were facing which wasn’t _inherently_ a dilemma. 

“Maybe Sho bought her everything already.” Hizashi suggested, trudging after them while he pulled the basket behind him. 

Kayama hummed wordlessly, the trio making their way to the cashier. If they were to follow the itinerary, it was supposed to be thirty to forty minutes each store. Night time only got colder and even if all establishments did have heaters installed, Asuka’s health was nothing to risk about. 

Hizashi heaved the basket on top of the metallic table, offering the cashier a smile. 

“Sashi.” a low voice muttered, and Hizashi peered down to find emerald orbs glittering at him. 

“Yes?” his smile widened, crouching to her height, then he had to stand up once more because the kid was yanking his mustard yellow parka towards what he figured to be a book section. He watched her tippy-toe, delicate fingers rising to barely brushing against the hardcover of her selected choice. 

“...you want...this _book_?” Hizashi recovered, struggling for his next words as the girl’s braids shook with her confirming nod. “ _And_ , um,” he took the book tinted with rainbow splashes all over, “you _can,_ I’m _assuming_ , Asuka-chan, _read_ what’s on here? ‘ _History of Quirks and Evolution of Time’_?” 

Her excited face seemed to dwindle to a blank slate. _Which was odd as fuck_ — but not as a alarming as an one year old being able _read_. 

She wagged her finger at him.

“ _What_?” Hizashi questioned, staring at her furrowed eyebrows. 

“Prih-eey!” 

Oh. _Oh_. _The cover was **pretty**. _

“Oh yeah!” he exclaimed, chortling at the stupid, uncoventional thoughts he had. “It’s _totally_ pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. Good job, bud!” He patted her cheeks lovingly before tucking the book under his arms, lightly guiding her to the cashier where Kayama managed the bill. 

*

Her hand twisted at Hizashi’s golden wisps of hair peeking out his jungle green beanie, mentally berating herself over slipping up _so_ bad. What the hell was she thinking when she showed him the book?! _Prih-eey?! Pretty?!_ She buried her cold face into his neck, wanting to scream out the sheer _embarrassment_ she was experiencing. 

“Are you okay, ‘suka-chan? Feelin’ too sleepy?” Hizashi voiced. 

No. 

Feeling like an idiot? _Yes_. 

Solely for the reason that she didn't want to cut the trip short, she perked up immediately and latched both her gloved arms on either sides of Hizashi’s face. Hizashi seemed to have gotten her message because the next thing she knew, he was stealing kisses all over cheeks. And she let him. 

Hizashi was easily the most affectionate among her father’s friends. Always cooing. Always helping her run around the house after shifting much of her father’s furniture to his annoyance. Always twirling her around until she felt dizzy, only to stop when her father smacked his monumental head, telling him to not to do that. Always purchasing her little accessory that he deemed to suit her. Always experimenting with her hair and crooning about how lovely she looked no matter the hairstyle. Always making her his special bite able sized 'pizza' on Fridays and conjuring berry smoothies when she uttered the simple words ‘Riri’— her wording was _mortifying_ to herself, but it did the job. 

“Oi, stare ahead.” Kayama’s voice came from the side. She watched as Hizashi made a face at Kayama. “Why’d you buy the book?” Kayama questioned, disregarding the kiddish face directed at her. 

“‘Cos _this_ little firefly wanted it.” Hizashi quipped back, boping her nose. Asuka scrunched her face and buried her head where the warmth was once more. Asuka in no way, shape or form thought that she had the perfect mischievous baby persona going on. And that shit was hard to pull when she was nineteen years old with memories from her less than cheerful life. But the _last thing_ she wanted these people to think that she was some _prodigy_ in the making. Last thing she wanted was to garner _attention._ Last thing she wanted was to be under someone's scrutiny and _surveillanced_ like some lab rat. 

She enjoyed her current, leisurely life, thank you very much!

Still, even if she wanted to be under the radar, she couldn't hide her thirst for knowledge. Books were a sanctuary for her. And being a nerd in her previous life was an astronomical part of that, but this world was still foreign to her, she was oblivious to many things while living in a safe bubble that her father and his friends provided. There was _so_ much to know here. Like _how ‘_ quirks’ came to be, _why_ the big kids had their chakra expanding from their core and making itself home in different parts of their bodies? _Why_ did Izuku and the rest have their cores tightly packed into a ball just above their navels? _Why_ did that one adult who worked over at the big kids section have a similar core as Izuku and the rest? _Why_ did some people's chakra have colors and others didn't? _Why_ did people with the faces of animals talk? _Why_ couldn't normal stray cats talk? Why, why why _,— so_ many _why’s_ with _no answers_. 

So when the book titled: _History of Quirks and Evolution of Time_ grasped her attention among the other trinkets in the store, Asuka _wanted_ it. 

No.

_Needed it._

It seemed like it would provide plenty of answers. 

“Huh? Why’d she want a book?” Kayama asked. 

“The cover was pretty.” Hizashi said, “It had these rainbow splashes like someone threw sponges at ‘em, must’ve caught her eyes.”

Kayama hummed something along the lines of ‘weird kid’, then smoothed over the back of the snow white coat she was put into. 

“Yeah.” Hizashi chortled, herself shaking due to his deep laugh, “For a second I thought she knew how to read.” no shit. If it weren't for her quick thinking, he might’ve just destroyed every single glass in the vicinity. 

*

By the time Asuka passed the 2.5 year marker, she could _somewhat_ talk normally. Not the usual moronic sounds like _‘Riri’_ or _‘Booboo’_ or _‘prih-eey’_ , she could _actually_ form full sentences, though she had yet to have a firm grasp on some pronunciations. And doctor Fusazane was acutely impressed by her verbal development, so much so that he was beaming when she replied `` _how are you doing today with_ **:** ‘I ‘ave a terr'ble knee ach ‘cos I fell in th’ park!’ _[I have a terrible knee ache because I fell in the park]_

She was always tumbling around in that damn park for some reason.

Fusazane regarded her father with a friendly, doctor _Look_. “Asuka-chan’s quite gifted, actually, not many kids her age can speak like she does.” 

“I know.” 

Asuka reeled back her head not-so subtly on her father’s chest. Fusazane laughed it off.

She wouldn't necessarily say being verbally advanced was anything to be wary about. Haruno Sakura was verbally advanced and that didn't make the people around her treat her any differently. Sure _some_ parents praised her father for raising such a smart kid and asked him _how_ he did while he blinked at them after saying ‘nothing in particular’. 

Most of them left after sprouting an awkward laughter.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with her results,” Fusazane said, closing her file, “Asuka-chan’s perfectly healthy. Just keep what you’re doing and everything will be fine!” he conveyed cheerfully. 

When they left the doctor’s office, she and her father made their way out the hospital, him keeping her close to his side while she stumbled about, clutching his shirt because he usually had to bend over whenever she reached for his hands. “Papa, I wanna eat somethin’.” she said, hoping it was loud enough to be heard over the PA system announcing some emergency. 

“You ate two burgers an hour ago.” he deadpanned, tugging her to the side as a stream of nurses rushed through the hallway. 

She scowled, being tiny was a bitch. Yanking the end of his black shirt, she made him pick her up. “Buh tha’ was _an ‘our ago_!” she insisted. No way was she eating _peas_ for lunch at her preschool when she could eat something _unhealthily_ _scrumptious_. Like burgers. 

Burgers were the _best_. 

He snorted, peering at her with knowing grey eyes. “They’ll serve food at your preschool.”

Now, Asuka hated acting like a baby, (hate would be a strong word, maybe a minor dislike) but desperate time calls for desperate measures. So she circled her arms around his neck, nuzzling his neck and squeezing tightly as she bubbled out a: “ _Please_ , papa? _Pretty please_ wi’h a strawb’rry on top?”

“....you can’t coax me into feeding you a third burger. One is the limit. And you _know_ why you got to eat two today, Asuka.” he grunted, and she felt movement as he started walking. 

Asuka smirked victoriously, detecting the reluctance in his voice. Leisurely swinging her foot, she detached from the hug and blinked at him prettily, “‘cos I got my 'lood suc’ed out t’day?” 

“Yes.” her father said, avoiding her gaze as he stared ahead. Coward. 

She stared more intensely, grabbing hold of both sides of his head to make his ash grey eyes focus on her, “‘re you sur' I can’t 'ave ‘ny?” 

His jaw tensed, “Even if you got your blood taken for testing, you’re not tricking me into getting another round of burgers.” and Asuka pouted visibly, slumping on his shoulders as her feet brushed against his thighs much aggressively. 

Oh the woes of being a child, fussing over mere food (Junk food). She could finally understand why children tended to spit out peas. They tasted bland. The more you chewed them, the more revolting it got, and they resembled shit with no smell. It wasn't like all the meals at her preschool were that unsavory though, Steak fridays were _okay_ , fish & chips Tuesdays were the most anticipated, and curry rice Thursdays were the _best_. So not _all_ of her food choices were bad, per say, but this world had more variety to offer, and, well, it tasted _eons_ better than the ration bars and rabbit meat she ~~kept~~ _used to_ inhale to keep up her gears running.

Though some irrational part of her brain prodded towards trauma provided by the food deprivation months after her (literally) tear-jerking arrival and thought maybe _that_ was the reason she was so _obsessed—_ or maybe not. It was only a month and a half, after all, that didn't even amount to the days she was punching chests as if they were paper and then kneeling over anyone that didn't have uncanny reanimation eyes and the most _vile_ white for skin, pumping green chakra and mending their wounds as her _always_ blood coated hands hovered over their skin. 

_"Haruno-senpai! We got someone with pneumothorax over here!"_

_"Where's Shizune-senpai?!" she yelled back from her table without looking from the groaning Iwa-nin. The heat inside the tent was unbearable, perforating her in every direction as she wrenched the bubble of toxins out with an exhausted heave. This was the seventh patient to come in poisoned, and seventh fucking patient to glare at her like she was hurting them on purpose._

_"At least give me anesthesia!"_

_"Shizune-senpai is tending to another critical patient– Haruno-senpai! He's chalking up blood!"_

_"Give him a dose of doxycycline!" she called back, furious green eyes focusing on the next bubble and ignoring the jabs thrown her way._

_Then her ears were ringing, and a gleaming yellow eyes entered her vision—_

“—suka? Asuka? _Fuck_! Are you—”

She blinked, tilting her head at the way her foot dangled from the ground, not brushing against her father’s baggy jeans when she wiggled them. It was odd. Why was her father holding her away from him while wearing the same look he had when she tended to run into things she’s not supposed to?

“Papa?”

His thumbs tightened around her arm sockets and the remaining fingers around her back, relief blatant in his eyes. “ _Thank god_.” he said, bringing her close again, “I _thought_.. I thought you were having a seizure or somethin',” he mumbled, smoothing over her hair, placating himself more than herself. “Don't scare me like that you brat...”

Did she... zone out?...

Then he started walking again, mumbling words she couldn't decipher. 

Later she got a guava smoothie, and not a burger. 

And then there were no peas to eat because her father took her home instead of school. 

*

Asuka was aware that she was more of a mind-my-own business type when she wasn't inherently harassing people for their fascinating quirks (and it was quite literal in that context). Except _now_ she actually asked instead of grabbing hold of them randomly. She was capable of speech, so a need for consent was a must. But on katsudon Wednesday, during recess, she wasn't looking for an adventure.

“So _yer_ the brat ‘zuku keeps houndin’ me ‘bout?” a boy was speaking to her now. A boy who had both hands on his hips, chest jutted out confidently, “What’s so special about’chu? _Huh_?” he taunted, ruby eyes gleaming and lips contouring into a smirk as if he’d been promoted from genin to chunin on his first try. 

Was he picking a fight?

“What? Nothin’ to say?” he prodded her. 

She blinked, packing the sand filled bucket with her neon shovel, “‘re you ‘zuku’s frien?” she shot back. Asuka had heard Izuku raving about his childhood friend on multiple occasions. _Kacchan’s so cool! Me an’ Kacchan are goin’ to be heroes together! Kacchan’s strong like you too, ‘suka-chan, he can beat up bullies like All Might! Kaachan says he’s goin’ to get a super cool quirk_ — he forgot to mention Kacchan was also a little bitch, because he just mimicked her response with an _unusually_ high-pitched was that certainly wasn't hers. 

“ _Haaa?!_ ” he shouted gratingly, “‘m not just his _frien,_ ” he mocked, taking a few steps into the sand box. “‘m his _best friend_ — ‘nd I heard how ya treat ‘im and it’s fuckin’ unac’petable!” he screeched some more, stomping his foot and scaring away some of the kids behind her. 

Frankly, his grating voice was the only unacceptable thing here. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s voice interrupted whatever verbal berating he had for her. Not that she was going to let that happen. The shovel in her hand was quite handy. “Don't annoy ‘suka-chan!” 

“But she steps on ‘yer face!” he yelled back. 

“‘Cos I let her!”

“Well ya shouldn't have _let_ her!”

Asuka blurred out the argument and focused on building a bucket castle. It was what kids her age did. Build fucking bucket castles. Though the sand could use some work because it was drier than her father’s eyes on a bad day. She patted the last layer and smoothed over the surface before flipping the bucket in lightning speed. Smirking with victory, she tapped the bottom two times and pulled the bucket. 

Then black boots squashed her castle. 

“What ‘re ya laughin’ ‘bout? ‘Yer still not off the hook—” the shovel on her hand somehow aviated to his face. 

Izuku’s frantic cry echoed, _Kacchan_ glowered at her, tackling her on the sand box, screaming something about _‘yer dead meat’_. Asuka wasn't one to bark, so she punched his face without chakra, disorienting him for a second as she rolled out from the tackle, the next second her precious hair was being _tugged_ and she laced her arms with strength, grasping his hand which held her hair and produced a war cry, throwing him over her shoulder and onto her destroyed castle. 

And that was the end because someone was picking her up and another was hovering over _kacchan the little bitch._

*

Shota was sprinting _to the fucking preschool because apparently his daughter gave someone a bloody nose._

He knew she was impulsive and rowdy, but _god dammit_ she hadn't ever drawn _blood._

Gathering his hair messily, he tied it up to a hopefully presentable ponytail all the while dodging a pregnant woman tumultuously talking into her phone. There was also an Owl mascot handing out something he didn't bother to read and stuff it into his pocket instead, and when the bright yellow gates of the preschool came into view, he wondered what kind of hell awaited him. 

“Fight me again ya brat!” 

“Katsuki, are you out of your damn mind?!” 

“Kacchan, I told you it won’t work like tha’.”

“Shut up ‘zuku, yer fightin’ me again!”

“Don't wanna.” 

...and this was _not_ the hell he envisioned. 

“Oh, Aizawa-san.” the physically block headed principal acknowledged him, relief washing over his charcoal eyes. 

“Papa!” his daughter waved at him, struggling to get out her home room teacher’s hands. He took her into his arms, confusion steadily growing in his eyes. Soon, he was ushered to sit down, opposite to him was a kid with tissue stuffed up his nose, Katsuki, he recalled. Izuku from Night Care and a woman who looked like a direct replica of her son.

“Is she getting suspended?” Shota deadpanned seriously, focusing directly on the blockhead— principle Mori. 

“What? No, no!” Katsuki intervened, jumping from the sofa only to receive a firm smack to his head. “God dammit don't hit me!” he screeched, glaring at his visibly irked mother, “Tha’ brat can’t get suspe’ded— I gotta win at lea’t once! FIGHT ME AGAIN—”

“STOP SCREAMING YA TWERP!”

“KAA-CHAN, ‘YER THE ONE KILLIN’ MA EARS!” 

“AND ‘YER THE ONE PICKIN’ FIGHTS WITH CHILDREN YOUNGER THAN YOU, ARE YOU A BULLY? DID I TEACH YOU THIS?”

“I DIDN'T START NO NOTHIN’, THAT GOOGLY-EYED BRAT PUNCHED ME FIRS’!”

“Tha' was _right_ aft’a you crum’led her castle’.” Izuku interrupted without breaking a sweat. Honestly, heads off to the kid. He looked down at his own daughter to observe her reaction, but only found her more interested in tinkering with his watch. 

It’s not that this was the first time he received a complaint of her aggressive impulses. But it _was_ the first time since he enrolled her into preschool. He was anticipating a fuming parent with a sobbing kid— but _this_? This far from anything he expected. The victim himself demanding for a rematch because he had _lost_ the fight to Asuka, his mother swatting his son over the head instead of boring holes into his skull and Izuku swinging his legs as if this was a common occurrence. 

It probably was. 

“Can we please discuss this in a more civil manner?” Principle Mori requested.

The question on his tongue didn't leave his lips before the woman clicked her tongue annoyedly. “Seriously, Mori-san? What’s there to discuss? Katsuki was being a little shit, and he got served by a kid a year younger than him.” her eyes detached from the queasy looking principle to him, then down to his daughter, “Asuka-chan, right?”

Asuka nodded, blinking blankly. 

“Heard you attacked him ‘cos he ruined your sand castle. I know what an annoying brat he can be, but throwing things like that can be dangerous, alright? Friendly brawls are all good and all until someone lands in the hospital.” she beamed at his blank faced daughter and Asuka cracked a smile (she could’ve tossed the shovel hard enough to crack his skull, but this lady was nice ~~and she wouldn't ever try to kill someone without a good reason~~ ), nodding once more.

“See, it’s all resolved, no need for anyone to get suspended!” 

Soon after they exited the room and the halls began to file in with other parents hurrying to pick up their children. Shota turned to the woman he still didn't know the name of to thank her, (he was ready for suspension, after all) 

“No need to thank me. ‘izawa-san, I’m Bakugou Mitsuki, by the way.” she grinned, patting his shoulder aggressively, “Katsuki’s a loud kid, but he ain’t that bad. I’m sure he’ll apologize soon enough— that’s _if_ he’s not going to insist on pestering Asuka-chan for a rematch.” Asuka surprisingly let Mitsuki tug at her cheeks without her _I-_ ** _will_ -** _bite-you_ gaze. “That was a nice shoulder throw you did there.”

“ _Shoulder throw_?” his daughter was visibly avoiding his eyes now. 

“Oh yeah,” Mitsuki drawled, “did a real clean shoulder throw when Katsuki tugged her hair, I saw the CCTV footage while waiting for you ‘cos ‘zuku-chan said the fight was awesome.”

_What the fuck?_

Then Katsuki and Izuku came bickering along the hallway, back from retrieving their belongings, and Mitsuki’s attention focused on them, hauling their hero merch bags, both having All Might’s face cringworthingly zoomed and slung it one shoulder, waving at him and Asuka goodbye. 

"Bye 'suka-chan! Bye oji-san!" 

“I’ll fight ya s'me other day!” Katsuki’s voice echoed. He watched Mitsuki shake her head fondly and grab hold of both Izuku and Katsuki’s hand shortly before turning to fetch Asuka’s belongings. 

“So, a shoulder throw?” he queried, quirking an eyebrow.

Asuka beamed, “Y’r hair’s _ver'_ pretty, papa.” 

“Yeah, you’re not getting out of this one.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Okay so this chapter was mostly fluff. And I really wanted to end it with a surprise bang! But I decided to post it after exceeding the 5k word limit. I normally go for over 8k cos my updates are slow, but I'll also try to update in the coming weeks so expect a chapter. Or maybe two.  
> Also, I love how I made Katsuki call his mom kaa-chan. Like do you guys think he'd be calling her 'hag' when he's only three? 
> 
> I only proof read this once so sorry for the typos!
> 
> I also want to say that I AM reading all of your comments, your lovely, uplifting, and encouraging comments. But I haven't been able to respond to all of them since I’ve been swamped with assignments and homeworks and whatnots. Anyways…  
> Hope this was a good read!

**Author's Note:**

> Have no idea how shifts for hero's work so I made it up.  
> Day heroes: 6am-12pm  
> Day heroes: 12pm- 6pm  
> Underground heroes: 6pm-12am  
> Undergrowth heroes: 12am- 6am 
> 
> Age/time factors in this story may be a bit inaccurate but please bear with me, I'm not the best at math. 
> 
> I renamed Sakura, Asuka because I could. (also, I just think the name just fits really well)
> 
> Also, list of OC’s will conclude names only if they are mentioned in the chapter.
> 
> Yes I'm going to wing all the chapters. Because this work is impulsive af and the first ever work to be published that I had no solid outline in or wasn't pre written. So updates are going to be sporadic at best.


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